Oni no Ko
by Sweet Honey-sempai
Summary: A boy with unnaturally colored eyes is born in a country full of unnaturally strong hatred. Tsuzuki Asato, from 1900 to 1948. Chapter 9: The adulteress' house is a highway to the grave, leading down to the chambers of death.
1. Oya ni ninu ko wa oni no ko

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Historical and Fictional Information:** I'm working with Tsuzuki's birthday as March 5th, 1900. Astrologically, it just works out better than February 24th.

It takes about six weeks after giving birth for a woman's reproductive system to be ready for pregnancy again. Some cultures have a period of isolation for mothers and newborns during these six weeks, to let them rest and bond. I'm not sure if Japan is one of those cultures, but I'm going to pretend it's at least a practice in the Tsuzuki family.

A mikudori-han is a letter of divorce. So long as the wife's dowry property was returned to her, a man could freely issue one of these writs.

An oni is a demon.

1870s/1880s Japan was quite accepting of foreigners and foreign imports. 1902 saw an alliance with England. However, by the 1890s Japan was beginning to view westernization as detrimental to Japanese nationalism, even as they sought "western" science.

The Satsuma Rebellion was a failed rebellion of samurai in the early Meiji era (1877).

Matsushita says Tsuzuki was born in Tokyo. I'll buy that. However, I'm going to say he didn't live in the actual city, but in the Greater Tokyo Area. He lives in the town of Ageo. His family runs the train station there.

The Diet is the Japanese parliament.

There is a reason why Takashi refers to God in the singular, that will become a plot point later on.

**VERY IMPORTANT STORY NOTE:** "Oni no Ko" _is_ the official Tsuzuki prologue to "'Til Second Death Do Us Part". However, there are certain things that simply don't match up. I realize this. It's because my theories about Tsuzuki, including his social status and the number of his siblings, have changed in the year and a half since I wrote the original story. Yes, _eventually_ I will get around to editing "Second Death" and "Southeast of Eden" to make everything match up. Don't worry; there's nothing in "Oni" that would change the overall plot to "Second Death" or "Eden"—just minor details, or details that can easily be rearranged. They were both due for editing, anyway.

**Message to my fans:** I am not abandoning "Filial Piety", but it _is_ going on hiatus. I want to work on some other YnM ideas I have, as well as my original novel. _Don't worry_; I _promise_ I will finish it. My muses are jut a little tired of it right now.

* * *

Oya ni ninu ko wa oni no ko

* * *

"A child that does not resemble its parents is the child of a demon." – Japanese proverb

* * *

_Early June, 1899 _

-

Aimi glanced up and then quickly looked down again, busying herself by fidgeting with the skirt of her kimono. Takashi was equally ardent in ignoring catching the eye of his spouse. They had been like this for nearly a week, ever since what should have been a bout of lovemaking celebrating the end of her isolation after the successful birth of a second child six weeks ago had turned into Aimi's worst nightmare.

Aimi clutched the fabric of her kimono and squinted back tears at the memory. She had been so lucky in Takashi. He was close in age to her, wealthy, cultured, loving, selfless, refusing to take a concubine even when she was pregnant. He was respectful and respectable, and despite having not known him before their wedding she had come to adore him by the time Daiki was born, within the first year of their marriage.

And then, in the middle of congratulatory copulation, everything she thought about him had been upended and scattered on the floor to be trampled on.

The color of his eyes changed, from their usual intelligent, noble black to a shade of violet Aimi had never seen on a human before. Soft kisses turned into savage bites, coitus to sadistic penetration. It was the first time since their first night together that fear kept her from pleasure, though the nerves of a new bride were nothing in comparison to the terror she felt upon seeing her husband draw her blood and laugh.

"Aimi, we can't go on like this."

Aimi's head snapped up. Takashi had ceased pacing back and forth across the room though refused to come any nearer to the table Aimi knelt at.

"Do you want a mikudori-han?" Takashi continued, a pained look on his face.

"No!" Aimi gasped, aghast, standing up. "A divorce won't help anything. Takashi, what happened? Are you…" she hesitated at the awful suggestion. "Are you upset that I had…a girl?"

"Of course not! I love our daughter. How could you even—"

"It's the only thing I can think of!" Aimi said, near tears, trying not to raise her voice. "That you would punish me for wanting to keep Ruka when we already have a son…a drain on our finances…"

"I'm one of the richest men in this country. I don't have to worry about such things." Takashi resumed pacing.

"Then what is it? Did I anger you in some way? I don't understand, Takashi!"

"I don't either, Aimi!" He stopped suddenly, looking torn, and turned his back on his wife.

"Takashi?" Aimi asked gently after a few seconds of silence.

"When I was…I heard something," Takashi said, refusing to turn around. "A voice…in my head. And all of a sudden I wasn't in control of myself anymore. I could see what I was doing, but it wasn't…myself who was doing it. I wanted to scream, but I laughed. I wanted to cry, but I smiled. It was like…someone had taken control of me…with the specific intent to harm you."

"Like an…an oni?"

"God forbid…but yes. Like an oni."

"Who would want to—?"

"We have enemies. Anyone in Ageo could want to set one on us."

Aimi looked down again, clasping her hands. She knew full well the extent of the neighborhood's contempt for them, for any number of reasons. Her husband asked her opinion and took her advice. They allowed English businessmen in their home, offending the local patriots. Survivors of Satsuma twenty-two years earlier resented them for their retained wealth despite their samurai descent. Actually, half the town resented them for their wealth.

"Or perhaps it was looking for some fun, and we were there…ready for it," Takashi said, sensing his gregarious wife's displeasure at being reminded of their unpopularity.

"Takashi."

Something in his wife's voice made Takashi turn to face her, suddenly frightened as to what she had to say.

"What?"

"Takashi, I…" She stopped.

"You're ill," Takashi said, finally stepping forward at the paleness of Aimi's face.

"No," Aimi said, stepping backwards. "I'm not ill, but I…"

"What? Aimi—"

"Takashi, I'm going to have another baby," Aimi said, quietly but clearly.

Neither Takashi nor Aimi moved or talked for what felt like an eternity, except for Aimi's compulsive bunching up of her skirt to the point of almost ripping the fabric.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I've missed my time completely. Today should have been the end of my bleeding…if it had started to begin with."

Suddenly standing on shaking legs, Aimi slowly, painstakingly lowered herself back to kneeling on the table.

"Well…" Takashi started.

Aimi buried her face in her hands with a small sob.

"What should we do? If you want to rid us of it, I won't stop you."

"That's illegal," Aimi said through her hands and tears. "We can't afford a scandal like that in our position."

"There's any number of women in Ageo we could bribe to give you something and not say anything."

"You trust these women? They despise me. They'd just as like poison me and say it was an accident. You could handle Daiki alone, but Ruka still needs me."

"I couldn't handle Daiki without you," Takashi said quietly.

"Thank you," Aimi said, wiping away her tears and finally looking up at her husband with a weak smile. Takashi returned the smile with even less enthusiasm, and knelt opposite to her.

"I suppose since you do not want to go ahead with the poisons…"

"I'll have to bear it all the way through," Aimi finished for him.

"What then? How do you want to dispose of it? If there is someone who'll take it…"

"There's no one who will take it."

"Then…suffocation? Exposure?"

"I suppose. I don't know. I don't want to think about this now." Aimi stood, slamming her hands on the table as she did. "You're the head of this household, aren't you? You're supposed to tell me what to do." She walked away, wanting to pace as Takashi had earlier. "You're supposed to make me drink the poisons or expose it to the elements. You're supposed to not care how I feel about what you do to me in our bedroom. We shouldn't even be having this conversation. Takashi, why are you so _good_?"

"The English," Takashi said, allowing a hint of amusement. "I spent too much time in school overseas. It's made me very un-Japanese."

"Don't let the patriots in town hear you say that," Aimi said, allowing herself to reciprocate the tone. She ceased her pacing and returned to kneeling at the table.

"So…" Takashi said.

"We'll decide what to do once this…_it_ is born."

Takashi reached out his hand to cover his wife's. Aimi bent over the table, leaning her head against his hand.

* * *

_March 5__th__, 1900_

-

"This is utterly ridiculous."

Takashi paused. A servant, bearing Ruka and Daiki, also stopped obediently behind him. A doctor he recognized as the one to tend to Aimi was some distance away from him, conversing with another doctor, loud enough to be in earshot.

"Completely and utterly ridiculous," he repeated. "The woman refuses to see reason. She's seen the little monster's eyes, and still she won't let me dispose of it. She had me treat it as if it were any other baby!"

"Eyes?"

"That thing she's just borne has the most unnatural purple eyes."

"I've never known anyone in Japan to have purple eyes."

"It sounds foreign. That Tsuzuki family always has Englishmen in the house. Stupid woman, keeping the proof of her infidelity…"

"I will not hear an insulting word against my wife," Takashi called, loud and dignified, effectively silencing the two doctors. "Don't forget who's keeping you in business. One complaint to my friends in the Diet…"

The two doctors quickly bowed away, excusing themselves. Takashi smirked at their subservience before frowning at their news. He stepped forward, opening the sliding door, and allowed his children and servant into the room before shutting the door behind them.

"You stupid, silly woman."

"I knew you would say that," Aimi said, smiling weakly and defiantly at the same time. Her kimono was pulled open at the collar. The newborn was suckling hungrily at her breast.

"The doctor says that it has purple eyes."

"Yes, _he_ does," Aimi said, moving her arm supporting the infant protectively.

"So everything that we spoke of?"

"It is not going to happen," Aimi said firmly.

"You didn't even think to consult me on this?" Takashi demanded.

"The mother is supposed to feed immediately to prevent bleeding," Aimi explained. "I decided to do what I'd done with Daiki and Ruka, and…well…"

"You want to _keep_ this reminder of—" He stopped abruptly, feeling the presence of their servant and other children. "Fine."

"Takashi?"

"Whatever you wish," he said, feigning apathy. He put his hand on the maid's back and pushed her forward. "The children want to see you."

"Daiki, is that you?" Aimi cooed, seeing the four-year-old at the side of his nanny. "How was he behaving, Emiko?"

"Well, Aimi-sama," Emiko replied, tugging Daiki's hand to urge him toward his mother. "And the young miss decided to try walking as we waited for you."

"Ruka!" Aimi gasped at the squirming eleven-month-old cradled in Emiko's left arm. "Did you do that? Were you so eager to see your new brother?"

Takashi stepped back. He suddenly needed the aid of the wall to support him.

"He's ugly," Daiki said plainly.

"No he's not," Aimi said, sticking her tongue out at her firstborn. "He's your brother. And any brother of yours has got to be handsome, right?" Daiki beamed under the praise.

Apparently annoyed at being ignored, Ruka stretched out her pudgy hand and grabbed her younger brother's ear. Emiko gasped, but unnecessarily; Ruka seemed content just to hold her possession and the newborn was unperturbed.

"Ruka and this one are going to be close," Aimi said, laughing, tapping Ruka's nose with the index finger of her free hand and then gently prying Ruka's hand off the infant's ear. "Not so much with Daiki, I suppose," she added, looking down at her uninterested eldest.

"That'll change when they get older," Emiko promised, smiling.

"Emiko-kun, could you take the children out of here?" Takashi suddenly interrupted.

"Sir?" Emiko turned her head to her master.

"I wish to speak with my wife. Don't question me; just do as I say!"

"Yes, Takashi-sama," Emiko said hurriedly, stepping away and dragging Daiki across the room.

"Don't yell at her," Aimi said as Emiko shut the door. "She has nothing to do with this."

"For heaven's sake, Aimi, that thing has purple eyes! It's a demon's child!"

"He's _my_ child. And he's yours, too, if you'll have him."

"Those doctors think you've been unfaithful. Most of Ageo will think the same."

"Most of Ageo hates me, anyway. Let them talk."

"Damn it, Aimi!" Takashi slammed his fist against the wall. "If I told you to get rid of it, you would."

"That isn't true, Takashi."

"Woman, I am your _husband_. I have the _right_ to force you."

"But you wouldn't."

Satisfied, the baby extricated himself from his food source and made a contented noise, cutting across any reply Takashi might have made, had he thought of one. Aimi gently adjusted the small bundle in her arms, turning her attention from her husband to her son.

"I knew I let you have too much freedom," Takashi grumbled, his heart not in the admonition.

"That's my good boy," Aimi praised, kissing her son's head, and then looked back at her husband. "Then you aren't going to insist I get rid of him?"

"Do as you see fit," Takashi said, defeated.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. You would do things your way with or without my say-so."

Aimi smiled. "Takashi, you should come greet your son."

"He's not my son."

"Yes he is. _Now_ he is. We can't have a peaceful home if you don't love him, Takashi."

"Aimi…"

"It's not _his_ fault. Please, Takashi. Come greet him. Do it for me, at least, if not for him."

Aimi refused to take her eyes away from her husband. Takashi felt her gaze acutely, as if it were some gravitational force pulling him to her bedside.

"What do you want to call…him?" Takashi asked with difficulty.

"I hadn't been planning to name him anything," Aimi said weakly. "I think we should give him the name we'd decided for Ruka had she been a boy."

"Asato, then," Takashi said. He cleared his throat and glanced down cautiously at the infant, expecting some hideous being to meet his eyes. Almost to his surprise, the boy looked no different than his siblings had post-natal, with one exception: his eyes, unlike Ruka and Daiki's brown, were dark purple.

"Hold him," Aimi said, lifting her arm.

"I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Of course it's a good idea, you're his father. Take him."

Aimi practically thrust Asato into Takashi's arms, so much so that he nearly dropped the baby. For a moment Takashi was tempted to loosen his hold and let the boy fall, but the delight in Aimi's eyes halted that particular thought process. Asato fussed and wriggled in his tense arms, unhappy with the separation from Aimi, and let out a robust wail.

"Nothing abnormal with his lungs," Takashi said uncomfortably.

"There's nothing abnormal with him at all, except his eyes," Aimi reported, protectively snatching back her newborn. "He wasn't even any more difficult to deliver than the other two."

Takashi mentally noted wryly that the fact didn't mean much. Her previous deliveries had been agony for the small-boned woman.

"Speaking of my other two children…" Aimi said, rocking Asato back and forth to soothe him, successfully.

"I'll send for Emiko to bring them in," Takashi said listlessly, crossing the room for the door.

"Takashi?"

"Yes?" He paused.

"Are you angry at me?"

"No," he said without turning around or stopping, and stepped out into the hall and slid the door shut. "I'm angry at myself for letting this happen."

"Sir?" Emiko asked.

Takashi shook his head. "Take them in to see her."

"Yes, sir," Emiko said, bearing her two charges past her inert master.


	2. Lamb, Dragon

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

* * *

"Then I saw another beast, coming out of the earth. He had two horns like a lamb, but spoke like a dragon."-Revelations, 13:11

* * *

Lamb, Dragon

* * *

June, 1906

-

"Daddy!"

Takashi rubbed his temple over the cup of tea he was sitting down to. It seemed like five minutes couldn't pass without a childish voice calling out to him. This particular time it was Ruka, as only she had the status of pampered favorite to exploit. Daiki at ten years was far too standoffish, growing into his maturity by calling Takashi "Father" in his stiff, best imitation of adult respect. The twins were barely aware of his existence, with their world made up of Aimi and Emiko, and his with keeping the train station afloat.

Twins. Nothing confirmed Ageo's suspicions that the family was cursed more than the birth of Hideyoshi and Hiroto three years ago. The fact that they were boys kept the townspeople from sending a few priests from the local shrine after them, but really. _Twins_. But then, the Tsuzuki family had already had the audacity to keep the purple-eyed freak, so it really wasn't surprising that they kept the harbingers of bad luck.

Takashi sighed. "The purple-eyed freak" also called him "Father" when he worked up the nerve to talk to Takashi at all. Takashi didn't know when or how, exactly, Asato had become aware of his father's aversion to him—Takashi was sure his wife wouldn't dream of putting a riff between them—but Asato had no illusions about his relationship with Takashi. The boy kept his eyes downcast, even over Aimi's admonishments, when speaking to his father, and Takashi was sure that none of his other children, nor any children he had ever known, apologized half so much as his second son. Asato had nearly burst into penitent tears when he'd upset a tatami mat a few days ago.

"_Daddy!_" Ruka's impatient voice called again, and her hotheaded seven-year-old footsteps were heard stomping outside the door.

"Ruka, you should know better than to be so rude," Takashi chided as Ruka pushed open the door. "Your mother is sleeping." Running after the twins was beginning to take its toll on Aimi's vivacity despite the woman only being twenty-six years of age.

"Daddy, Asato-otouto's crying," Ruka reported, ignoring the reprimand.

"What?"

"Them mean boys were hurting him again."

"Who are these boys?"

"Awful bad bullies, Daddy. _Mommy_ knows about them," she added reproachfully.

"Is Emiko-kun not doing her job in taking care of you?"

"Emiko-san's washing clothes," Ruka informed her father. "And Daiki-niisan says he doesn't care."

For a fleeting moment Takashi wished he could say that he didn't care either, but the expectant eyes of his only daughter, Aimi's mirror image, prevented him.

"I'll look in on him," Takashi said, rising. "Where is he?"

"Outside." Ruka snatched her father's hand and pulled his reluctant body out of the room through the doorway leading into the backyard. Takashi shut the door behind him as Ruka dropped his hand and sprinted towards her younger brother. Asato was standing by the well, a bucket sitting precariously on the stone ledge.

"Asato-otouto, Daddy's here!" Ruka said cheerfully, taking hold of her favorite sibling's shoulder and pushing him around.

Takashi faltered at the image before him. His six-year-old son was holding a wet rag to his mouth, and as he lowered it Takashi could see the clot of blood on his upper lip and the swollen redness of the surrounding cheek. Asato's eyes, unnatural in color but as expressive as any other child's, held a mixture of fear and shame, before disappearing from sight as he ducked his head.

"Ruka-chan, go tell Emiko-kun to start preparing dinner. I'd like a word with your brother."

Asato twitched. Ruka looked quizzical but did not inquire further; she simply hugged her brother gracelessly and took off, screeching the maid's name.

For a moment both Asato and Takashi seemed unable to move. Takashi stared down at his son, who refused to meet his gaze.

"Why haven't I heard about these bullies, Asato?"

Asato winced again, still keeping his head down. "Mommy said not to tell you. I'm sorry, Father."

"And why not?" Takashi had a feeling that he already knew the reason.

"Mommy says you'd get upset, because they make fun of my eyes," Asato said, confirming Takashi's intuition.

"Is that what they were doing today?"

"Yeah, and…"

"And?"

"Nothing."

"Are you lying to me, Asato?"

Asato recoiled as his father stepped forward. "They called you and Mommy demons who should move to England because you're as good as for'ners."

"I see." Takashi often heard the same, more eloquently and circuitously, from who were no doubt the parents of these boys. "Is that why you fought them?"

"I'm really sorry, Father," Asato said miserably. "Emiko-san told me not to, but they hit me first, and then Ruka-nee said she'd fight them too, but I didn't want her to 'cause she's a girl, so we ran back home."

"Has Ruka done that before?" Ruka was, without doubt, the toughest of all five children, far exceeding Daiki in physical prowess.

"Emiko-san told her not to fight, too, but Ruka-nee gets mad. She says it's bad of them."

"It _is_ bad of them, and of you and your sister. I don't want to hear of you fighting anymore, do you hear?"

"Yes sir," Tsuzuki said, eyes brimming. "I'm sorry. I mean it. I'm really sorry."

"Stop apologizing, for God's sake!" Takashi yelled, louder than he meant to, and he regretted it when Asato visibly flinched.

"Takashi? What's wrong?"

Takashi whipped around to see Aimi leaning out of their yard-bound bedroom door. She was tying off her obi, and her hair was still messy from sleep. Asato quickly rubbed his eyes with his arm and sucked the bleeding part of his lip into his mouth.

"Asato has been involved in an altercation," Takashi said steely. "Apparently some neighborhood boys have been insulting us."

"Asato, I told you not to fight!" Aimi scolded, now fully awake as she crossed the yard to her son.

"I'm sorry," Asato said, with a nervous glance at his father. "But they said bad things about you—"

"That doesn't matter," Aimi interrupted. "Mommy doesn't care what those boys say about her. You do not fight, you hear?"

"Yes, Mommy. I'm sorry."

"It's fine; just don't let me catch you fighting again." Aimi knelt down and inspected her son's face. "How awful," she said, lightly touching his swollen cheek. "Here, give me that." She took the damp rag from Asato's hand and dabbed at his cut lip. "This should stop bleeding quick enough. You hold this to your lip and go find Emiko-kun, okay? Tell her to give you some ice."

"Father wants Emiko-san to make dinner," Asato said, and Takashi was taken aback at the matter-of-fact protest in Asato's voice.

"Then go find Tomoko-kun," Aimi said. "She should probably get used to this anyway." The new maid had only been with the family for a few days. "And no tears, hmm?" She flicked his nose and smiled gently. "Be a little man for me, yes?"

Asato nodded and smiled weakly underneath his mother's beaming grin. Aimi pulled him into a hug and kissed his forehead, before mussing his hair and gently pushing him in the general direction of the house.

"How long has this been going on, Aimi?" Takashi asked, as she rose and Asato disappeared inside.

"For about a year," Aimi said, brushing off her kimono.

"And why did you deem it necessary to keep me in the dark about this?"

"Because I knew that you would react this way."

"What way?"

"Badly."

"Pardon?" Takashi growled.

"For Heaven's sake, Takashi, the boy is getting beaten by neighborhood brats and all you can think to do is yell at him for apologizing?" Aimi flung at her husband.

"Do _not_ saddle me with this mess. We _both_ knew what would happen if we kept him."

"Oh, so he deserves it, then? Well, I suppose it'd be fine if I rectified that particular mistake. Oh, and I'll throw in our daughter and one of the twins, too. They're no good, either. Which one should we keep, Takashi? Hideyoshi's the smaller one, but he might be a bit smarter…"

"Stop being irrational."

"What's _irrational_ is how poorly you've been treating our son ever since he was born! Do you know that he thinks you hate him, Takashi? How is that any way for a son to feel about his father?"

"I can't treat him like a son, Aimi!"

"And why _not_?"

"Because he is _not_ my son!"

The sound of ceramic breaking caught both their attentions. Aimi gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, and Takashi inwardly flagellated himself.

"Asato, I told you to find Tomoko-kun," Aimi said tightly.

"F-Father left his tea," Asato said, looking down at the broken green pieces covered in lukewarm water at his feet. "I th-…thought he might've wanted it. I'm sorry…I broke the cup."

"Asato…"

The boy disappeared before Aimi uttered the last syllable of his name. Face red, eyes glittering, Aimi whipped around and slapped Takashi, hard, across the face.

"_Bastard_," she hissed, before turning on her heel and fleeing the scene before she cried in front of her husband. She had never struck him, nor he her, for the entirety of their marriage, and with that one slap she felt like their world was crashing down about her ankles.

* * *

"That's just _silly_. Of_ course_ you're their son. How else can you be my brother?"

"Maybe I'm not."

"Well, then, what are you?" Ruka demanded. "And Tomoko-san said to keep that on your face!" She pushed the ice-filed pouch up against her brother's cheek.

"Those boys say I'm a demon…"

"Those boys are _stupid_," Ruka said conclusively. "And besides, Mommy is always telling people you're her son."

"Maybe I'm only Mommy's son."

"Mommy wouldn't cheat on Daddy!" Ruka exclaimed, scandalized. The two had no ideas of the mechanics of conception; they only knew it required two adults of opposite gender to make a baby, and making a baby with someone who wasn't your spouse was called "cheating".

"Why are you talking about Mother cheating on Father?"

"Daddy said Asato-otouto's not his son," Ruka said, as both she and Asato turned their heads to see their older brother standing behind them.

"Well, you don't really look like him," Daiki, the spitting image of Takashi, reasoned, sitting down on the other side of Asato.

"But he looks like Mommy," Ruka said, "so he wouldn't have a different daddy."

"Where'd he get his _eyes_, though?" Daiki said, pointing at the objects in question.

Ruka shrugged. "Don't matter."

"Time for dinner!" a little voice called out from behind the three.

"Time for dinner!" another resounded, as twin sets of feet pattered out from the house. Hideyoshi and Hiroto slung their arms about Asato's neck and pulled him forward, nearly dragging him and themselves down the steps.

"Emiko-san says it's time for dinner!" the twins chorused.

"Don't strangle Asato-otouto!" Ruka scolded.

"Listen to your sister," a hard, masculine voice said from behind, and five faces turned upwards to view their father. The twins immediately released Asato. "Daiki, take Hideyoshi and Hiroto to Tomoko-kun. They need to get washed up."

"Yes, Father," Daiki said, grabbing the twins' wrists and awkwardly jerking them into the house.

"Daddy, Asato-otouto's really your son, right?" Ruka questioned anxiously, standing as Asato turned his face away.

"Ruka, go inside," Takashi said, putting his hand on her head and attempting to pull her forward. She wriggled out of his hold and turned back to her younger brother.

"You're my best brother, no matter _what_," she whispered loudly in his ear, before planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek and taking off in obedience of their father.

Takashi hesitated, and then took his seat next to Aimi's third-born. Asato moved sideways to make room, still refusing to transfer his gaze to Takashi.

"I want to apologize to you about what I said earlier," Takashi said stiffly. "I was wrong to get angry about you being sorry."

"Did you…did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Takashi asked, unnecessarily.

"That I'm not…your son?"

Takashi allowed for a long silence. Asato traced circles and infinities with his finger against the wood floor, and leaned his face against his leg and bit his knee.

"You are Aimi's son," Takashi said. "Through no wrongdoing of her own."

"But—"

"That's all I am going to say on the subject."

Asato nodded, catching the utter finality of the statement. Curiosity, the awful thirst for knowledge, reared its head in a different direction.

"D-do you…hate me?"

Takashi vacillated at the small voice's question. Aimi had told him of her son's suspicions, but hearing them spilling from the boy's mouth suddenly made him feel as if Christ crucified looked down and asked likewise.

"I…do not…_hate_ you, exactly," Takashi said, not knowing from where he drew his answer. "But I will not lie to you…given the circumstances in which you came into being…I wish you hadn't been born."

The moment the words left his mouth Takashi felt a part of himself completely empty out, as if he could see Asato begin to whither under the weight of those words.

"Y-yeah…m-me, too."

The agreement struck Takashi like a rock to the face. Remorse flooded him like water fills a drowning man. He could only thank whatever passing angels there were around them that he had not gone further into the explanation.

"S-sorry you gotta raise me," Asato continued, smiling self-deprecatingly with trembling lower lip. "Daiki-niisan says I'm a pain."

"Your brother thinks everything is a pain."

"H-hey, maybe…if I…run away…"

"Enough," Takashi said, voice hoarse, barely controlling the shaking inside him at the six-year-old's self-loathing. He stood abruptly, making the boy flinch. "We won't speak of this again, Asato. To anyone. It'll be as if this never happened."

"Yes sir." Asato scrambled to his feet as Takashi rose, feeling significantly weaker than when he sat. Asato hung back, unsure of what his next move should be.

"Go," Takashi said, unable to look at his wife's son. "Just…go to dinner."

Ruka's impatient voice beckoned from within the house and Asato ran for it.

"Are you coming, Daddy?" Ruka called, taking her brother's hand.

"We'll both be there in a few moments, Ruka," a feminine voice said, and Takashi turned to see his wife approaching him from the yard. "Go sit down, all of you, and wait for us."

Ruka took off, dragging Asato after her. Aimi took her son's place at the threshold.

"I'm sorry I hit you."

Takashi shook his head. "I deserved it."

"Still." She raised her hand and gently stroke where she had earlier struck. "How much did you tell him?" she asked after a silence.

"Everything except who his real father is."

She dropped her hand and sighed. "I guess he would have heard the rumors eventually. What does he know about your feelings toward him?"

"The truth."

Aimi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I hope that changes."

"It will take drastic measures."

"You are nothing if not honest," Aimi said resignedly. "Well, come on, then. They can't eat without us."


	3. Judas

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

* * *

"But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."-Matthew, 26:24

* * *

Judas

* * *

_-Mid July, 1908_

"Asato, it's not that different from Japanese."

Aimi shut the book and lightly, affectionately thumped her second son on the head with it. A worn out copy of the Bible, written in Latin, had been passed down through the Tsuzuki family for generations; a gift from a Portuguese missionary risking life and limb to give it to his charges before being forcibly expelled from the country. Scribbled in the back cover were a few oral prayers. Takashi had taught them to Aimi, and she to Daiki and Ruka.

"The print's too tiny," Asato said.

Aimi swallowed a small feeling of dread. Not only were her son's eyes odd but she feared them possessed, as well. Unlike his siblings he showed no aptitude for any form of academics, but had an especial lack of talent for reading Scriptures. Added to the almost foregone conclusion that his true father was a demon…

"You've heard your father say it scores of times, Asato," she said. Both of them had managed to cease flinching whenever the topic of paternity came up. "You should know the pronunciation."

"Sorry."

"I know you are. I know this is frustrating for both of us. But let's just, please, try it again?" Her finger pressed against the cover underneath the Latin. ""Benedic Domine"."

"Benedic Domine."

"Good. "Nos et"."

"No set."

"Try it again."

"No-s-s et."

"That's better. "Hæc tua"."

"Can't I just say it in Japanese?"

Aimi sighed. "No."

"Why? Does God only speak Latin?"

As soon as the words left his mouth Asato anticipated a slap to the face. Aimi regarded him solemnly, and then a small smile made its way onto her face.

"No, I'm pretty sure God knows Japanese. To be honest, I'd prefer to pray in Japanese, too."

"Why don't you?"

"Because lots of people don't want us to say these things at all. And you've got to be careful about who knows that we say this. We don't live among very accepting neighbors."

Asato nodded.

"All right, I'll let you go now, if you do some translating for me." She smiled again at the crestfallen look on his face. "You should know this one by now, Asato, if you know your mother at all."

"The Ave?"

"Yes."

"But that one's easy," Asato said, looking slightly insulted.

"That one is my favorite," Aimi countered. "Of course, that's probably why it's so easy; you've heard me say it dozens of times." She stood, going for the small collection of figures in a dug out hole in the floor hidden underneath a tatami mat.

"Mom?"

"If it's so easy, we'll make it into an actual prayer." Aimi produced a small Maria Kannon figure, Mary expertly disguised as the bodhisattva save for a small cross carved onto the bottom of the statuette. Aimi sat behind her son and held the Maria Kannon in front of them. At her bidding Asato wrapped his hands around his mother's.

"Are you ready?"

Asato nodded uncertainly, squeezing the figure and Aimi's hands.

""Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum"."

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee."

""Benedicta tu in mulieribus"."

"Blessed art thou among women," Asato said, growing into his confidence and settling comfortably against his mother, before acknowledging her heavily pregant belly and straightening up.

Aimi kissed the crown of Asato's head. ""Et benedictus fructus ventris tui Iesus"."

"And blessed is the fruit of thy womb—" Asato stopped as a sneeze came upon him; Aimi stiffled a laugh. "Jesus."

""Sancta Maria, Mater Dei"."

"Holy Mary, Mother of God."

""Ora pro nobis peccatoribus"."

Asato shifted, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in his skull. "P-pray for us sinners."

""Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae"."

"Now and at the hour of our death," Asato finished hurriedly.

"Amen."

"It is so!" Asato corwed, pleased with himself for the double translation.

"Next time I'm going to ask you to translate the Japanese into Latin," Aimi said, gently pushing her son off her. "All right now, get out of here. I know you're bored."

"Mom?"

"Yes?" She halted her attempt to stand up.

"When we pray…I feel strange."

"Strange?" She sat again, subconsciously clutching the Maria Kannon tighter.

"My head hurts."

"You don't worry about that, Asato," Aimi said firmly. "Hear me? Don't worry about that at all."

"Mom?" Asato intoned nervously, seeing her face pale.

"You are going to have to ignore any pain, Asato. It is extremely important that you obey me on this one. Do you understand?"

"But why…"

"_Do you understand_?"

"Mom!"

Aimi immediately released the arm she had seized. A sudden fit of remorse swept over her as Asato's terrified face appeared in her vision.

"I…I'm sorry," Aimi said weakly. "But you cannot allow yourself to be deterred from praying, Asato. It's extemely important that you obey me on this one."

"Y-yes," Asato said, eyes wide.

Aimi reached out again to take Asato by the arms. She pulled him as close to her as she could and kissed his forehead, before enveloping him in an embrace and gently laying his head against her womb.

"It's kicking," Asato said wondrously, feeling an unborn sibling's kick for the first time, having been too young to remember Hideyoshi and Hiroto in utero.

"Do you know how happy I am to have you, Asato?" Aimi said, stroking his hair. "It makes me so happy to love my children."

"Even when they're bad?"

"More so then. When they're misbehaving or upset, you start looking forward to the time when they'll smile again, and it'll make you that much happier when they do." She picked up a strand of hair and traced his cheek with it. "I know it isn't easy for you here, so it makes me very happy when I see you smile, when you and Ruka are playing with the horses, or when you see a sweet shop…you keep smiling for me, okay? Just keep smiling and praying for me."

"Okay," Asato said automatically, still intensely focused on trying to feel another kick from his sibling.

Aimi laughed, sensing his concentation wondering, and pushed him upright. "Now, help your mother get up, okay? There we go…" She rose to her feet, her hand in her son's. "All right, then, get going. Go play."

* * *

"Abe Maria…no, it's Ave Maria, grasia…grazia…no…aw, shoot." 

Aimi was a seasoned teacher and if she said she wanted her charge to learn the Latin, he had better well learn the Latin. Not that she would punish them—Asato couldn't remember his mother ever raising a hand to one of her children—but her looks of vague disappointment were enough to send a child into the pits of shame.

But it was too hard to concentrate in the house; Daiki would learn that Asato was studying and believe his twelve years made him a veritable master at the task of theology, which in turn would make Asato run away while covering his ears and shouting nonsense to drown out his brother. After that the twins would join in Daiki's chase, causing a ruckus that would draw Ruka out of her dancing practice to yell at them. Tomoko and Emiko only had four hands for five children and fellow servants rarely willingly came to their aid. The whole affair would culminate in Takashi yelling and Ruka bursting into furious tears that they had embarrassed her in front of her instructor. It simply wasn't worth it.

"Gra_ti_a, there were go," he said triumphantly, surveying the foreign words he had scratched into the dirt with a stick in an effort to help him pronounce them. "Okay then, purena…no, pulurena…p-_plena_."

"Whatcha doing, Asato-oni?"

Asato jumped at the sound of a mocking voice behind him. His foot reached out to scuff the letters out of the ground, but a rough hand grabbed his arm and yanked him away from his study guide.

"It's nothing," Asato said, looking away.

"Don't look like nothing."

"It looks _foreign_," another accused, ripping the stick out of Asato's hand and poking him with it.

"It's _nothing_." Asato jerked his arm away from the stick only to have it follow him, and this time change to an assault on his head. "Stop it."

"It's demon writing!" a third piped up, laughing.

"It is not!" Asato yelped, flustered. "It's _Latin_."

"Which means "demon"," the first informed his companions.

"It does not! Stop hitting me!"

"My dad says for'ners write like this," the third one said. "Are you a for'ner, Asato-oni?"

"His dad is," a fourth said.

"He is not!" Asato yelled, unable to remove the uncertain waver in his voice.

"So he's a foreign demon," the second reasoned, rapping the stick viciously against Asato's leg.

"Betcha he's a _Christian_, too."

"So what if I am?" Asato demanded before he thought.

"You hear that? Asato-oni's a _Christian_!"

"You know what they do to Christians?" the third one directed at Asato. "My dad says they kick 'em out of Japan. And if they don't go…" He sliced his hand across his neck.

"Not no more," Asato said moodily, red-faced with shame at himself and fear. "Not since Meiji-tennou."

"They still do the same thing to _demons_," the first one said.

Asato fended off a blow to the face from the stick. Sensing what was to happen next he turned and ran.

The first rock was a small pebble that landed in the middle of his back; the second a slightly larger rock that hit the crook of his shoulder. Covering the back of his neck and head with his hands, he hunched over and ran faster. Footfall was following him, as were dozens of more stones picked up along the way.

He tripped and fell on his stomach. The skin of his knee ripped open and a barrage of rocks rained down on his back. Managing to drag himself to his feet he took off again, this time stumbling. Laughter was added to running footsteps and stones.

* * *

"Honestly, who lets their children run around like little savages like that?" Aimi wondered aloud, seeing the distant outline of a group of children. She swayed and put a steadying hand on her stomach. "I swear, baby, if it weren't for the business I'd insist we leave. I'm worried about your brother as it is; those neighbordhood boys are so terrible to him…" She sighed as she felt another kick. "Let's just pray there's nothing wrong with you when _you're_ born." 

"_Mom_!"

"Asato?"

A blurry image of her bruised and bleeding third-born flashed in front of her vision before he disappeared behind her and hid his face in her legs.

"Asato, what's wrong?"

"I told them!" he wailed into her kimono. "I told them about us. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but it just…it just slipped out, and—!"

Aimi let out a small cry of surprised as a rock struck her leg. Instinctively she covered her belly with one arm while shielding her son with the other.

"Get away from my son!" she screeched at the nearing group of boys, more added to their number since the onslaught began. A few of the younger fell back, still fearing authority even if it came in the form of the adult world's pariah. "How _dare_ you touch my child?"

It took what seemed like a small forever for the world to move again, for Asato to find himself hiding against Aimi as she crouched on the ground, shielding him from the storm of stones raining down on them.

"Mom, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to tell them, I didn't, I didn't…"

"Asato…Asato, listen to me." Aimi half-covered his face with her hand, wincing at every rock that landed. "You go get help; go down to the station, get your father…anyone…"

"Mom…"

"Go! Just go!"

"Mom!"

Aimi's hands grabbed his arms and roughly pushed him away from her; he stumbled and fell, scrambling to his feet as he saw a few break off from the herd after him. One grabbed his ankle and he nearly fell again; he kicked out and caught his attacker in the face, instantly knocking two teeth out.

He ran, yelling, for his siblings, for the servants, until all their names jumbled together into an incoherent ball of screams, fading from the town's earshot as he ran blindly, tears in his eyes and obscuring his vision. Someone was grabbing his arm and he jerked away, sprinting off in the other direction. Someone was calling his name but he couldn't hear it over the shouting and the soft thuds of rocks landing on skin and dirt.

* * *

There were reeds now, slowing his run. Or was that the burning sensation in his legs? The sky was dark and a film of sticky water had settled permanently in his eyes; he couldn't see anything. 

Were they not tired? Were they not blinded? Was there something wrong with him, that he was lagging and they were not?

He didn't know, never would find out what was his undoing. All he knew was that he tripped out of the sea of reeds and couldn't rise again. It was raining from the sky. Not water; that was raining from his face. It felt like hail, like the descriptions of hail Takashi remembered from school in England.

"Woe to that man," Takashi's voice said in his ear, all that was clearly audible to Asato, resting comfortably on the muffled shouts and jeers like a boat on the waves, "who betrays…"

Asato covered his eyes.


	4. A Woman Clothed With the Sun

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Note:** I've noticed that this story is experiencing frequent mood swings when it comes to style. Hopefully this isn't too jarring.

* * *

"She was pregnant and cried out in pain as she was about to give birth."—Revelations, 12:2

* * *

A Woman Clothed With the Sun

* * *

There were fireflies.

Asato loved fireflies; he once caught some in a jar, and planned to continue to do so until his first pets were found dead in the morning, still clinging to the side of the glass if not belly-up on the floor of the jar. Ruka was upset and cried with him, and though Aimi comforted them, Asato thought he heard her sniffling after she had shut the door to her room.

"Asato-otouto?"

The firefly landed on the crook of his thumb, somehow managing to avoid the dried blood and dark pink scratches.

"Asato-otouto?"

It looked for a second that the firefly had spoken and an incredible sense of honor overwhelmed Asato, so much so that when Ruka crouched in front of him to peer into his face he thought the Virgin herself knelt before him.

"Can you stand up?" Madonna was replaced by sister; the firefly flew away and with it, Asato's ignorance of his pain. Suddenly his whole body stung with open red sores and ached with purple-black bruises. Silently, he shook his head. Dirt and dried tears streaked his face.

Ruka's hands rested on his neck and she lay her head down atop his. He hadn't the heart nor strength to tell her she was fingering a fresh wound and her hair lay intermingled with his eyelashes.

"Mom's hurt," Ruka whispered tearfully, mouth dry; her salvia stuck to her lips. "Real bad. Daisuke-san took her to the hospital."

Asato's hands felt something kick them.

"Tomoko-san and Emiko-san are out looking for you. Daddy's really worried…"

"I don't wanna," Asato mumbled into the dirt. "I don't wanna g'ome."

"You gotta. Asato-otouto, you _gotta_. Mom wants to know you're okay…Daddy even stayed behind to make sure you got home safe."

"No…no…"

"Don't be so mean!" Ruka jerked up and barely restrained herself from slapping her brother. "Mom and Daddy and everyone are worried! And what if you need a doctor, too? I'm not gonna let my little brother die! You're so selfish, Asato!"

Each word hit harder and hurt deeper than anything he had been assailed with. With difficulty Asato managed to lift his head and look into Ruka's eyes, bright with tears.

"I'm sorry," Ruka said, a knot in her throat. "I'm so sorry, Asato-otouto."

Asato had no way of knowing it was the look on his bloodied face that made her recant, but in any case the guilt had already settled like a rock in his stomach. With difficulty he managed to sit upright. Ruka stood and offered her hand; he stumbled as she helped him to his feet. Her grip on his hand strengthened as they walked, she more guiding him than anything else.

* * *

"Where did you find him, Ruka?"

"Out by that place with the reeds." Both Ruka and Asato withered under the voice of their father, customary sternness now decorated with a kind of old age both found disconcerting.

"Asato." The boy didn't have the strength left to flinch. "Why didn't you stop when I told you to?"

"I…didn't know it was you."

"We could've been spared all of this."

"I was scared," Tsuzuki half-whispered, the closest he'd ever come to defending himself.

"Daddy, how's Mom?" Ruka asked pointedly.

"I don't know, do you think I've been in Tokyo, waiting for your brother to come home?" Takashi snapped. Ruka's face fell and her fingers twitched around Asato's hand; Takashi instantly regretted what had caused the looks on the two's face. "Asato, go get cleaned off. We're going to see your mother as soon as you do. And for Heaven's sake, Ruka, let go of him, for once!"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not gonna," Ruka said, her face white but set. "And you shouldn't…you shouldn't say things like that to him, Daddy. You hurt him when you do."

The urge to slap Ruka, to put her in her place, rose within Takashi, but was quickly drowned out by the sudden premonition he saw of her as an adult, another Aimi begging for love for another cursed child.

"Fine," Takashi said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the image of a bloody, screaming Aimi flailing in the butler's arms, reaching out for Takashi, begging to know where her son was. "He's yours from now on, Ruka. Now just…just go. Get Emiko to help you. Your mother is waiting for us."

* * *

Asato could barely concentrate during the following days. He had fallen asleep on the carriage ride to Tokyo, and woke up in a daze only to learn that they wouldn't be seeing Aimi; she couldn't stop bleeding. The fog that he had awakened in seemed determined to follow him, like a faithful dog, like Ruka. Takashi left all of them at the house, and the quietness under the servants' half-authority was only broken by Ruka's records of waltzes and reels, dances Aimi had encouraged her to learn, "to snag a fine English gentleman". Asato watched her practicing with an invisible partner—her instructor kept away from the house out of courtesy—and tried to imagine what it would be like if she had a tangible one.

When the police came to demand names from Asato, he didn't give them. He could barely remember who had been there that day, and realize with a start that he had never learned their names to begin with; no introductions were needed once they had spotted his purple eyes and heard his family name. The police seemed all too relieved to learn this, "Probably because it's _their_ spawn what's put Aimi-sama in the hospital," Tomoko spat to the other servants, dropping ice in the officers' tea.

Daiki remained shut up in his room and only appeared for meals.

"It's your fault Mother's in this condition," he informed Asato one night over dinner.

"You shut your mouth, Daiki!" Ruka snapped.

Asato stared into his bowl of rice and said nothing.

Hideyoshi and Hiroto were irrepressible in their fives years of age; every once in awhile a servant commanded them to "Hush!". But even they somehow knew that something was wrong, and their play had turned mostly into loud whispers and being intentionally underfoot. They were the first to see Emiko close up the room that had been set aside for the sixth child.

Takashi returned three weeks after disappearing alone to Tokyo. Asato and Ruka were drowning out the world with a dance she was beginning to teach him, and missed the weakened, thinned, pallid Aimi in Takashi's arms, her empty womb noticeable as she refused to relinquish the kimono designed for maternity she had been wearing during the attack. Daiki, Hideyoshi, and Hiroto were all there to greet them, but the first Ruka and Asato knew of it was from the sound of a coughing fit, followed by retching and then Takashi's soothing voice.

"It's pneumonia, they say," Daisuke whispered to the other servants, warming Aimi's tea. "They weren't careful enough in surgery."

"No," Emiko said, chopping leeks slowly and then dumping them in a kettle of boiling broth. "It's grief."

* * *

"Takashi, my baby?"

"…Buried, Aimi." Takashi refused to look up from the book he wasn't reading.

"I meant…I meant Asato, Takashi."

"He is well. His wounds were superficial."

"You know he can't be—" she was cut off as she lost the battle to another phlegm-filled cough. Takashi abandoned his façade to wrap his arm around her shoulders and take her hands with his free one. The veins in her hand were raised and pushed the stripe of grainy skin over them up, and he tried to smooth them with his thumb, unsuccessfully.

"Here." He placed a rag to her face and wiped away the thick, yellow-green sputum. "You shouldn't overexert yourself."

"You shouldn't ignore him."

"Lie down." He stood upright and gently pushed his wife against the pillows.

"He's going to need you, Takashi."

"Don't upset yourself."

"He's your son. He has our name."

"Aimi, you're going to make yourself worse."

As if on cue, a searing pain ripped through Aimi's chest. Her twisted face was the only indication. "Promise me you won't abandon him."

"Aimi…"

"Promise me."

"I…I promise."

"Swear it?"

"Yes. Now go to sleep. Please."

Aimi smiled. Her eyes were clouded. "I love you."

"I; you."

Takashi left the room when Aimi slept to find two others resting. The children had been banned from the room to protect their health, but his two middle children had taken to haunting the surrounding hallway like the most loyal sentinels. But even sentinels needed sleep, and the warm summer day's sunset had lulled the eight- and nine-year-olds into a nap, leaning up against the wall outside the door, using each other's heads as pillows.

"That's dangerous, you know," he informed the two sleepers, half-heartedly, subconsciously keeping his voice low so as not to stir them. "You two are the most impractical…"

He knelt down and reached for his daughter first, gently flinging her arms over one of his shoulders and wrapping his arm around the back of her leg. He nearly stood but hesitated, watching Asato slowly slide down the wall now that his support had gone. Takashi grabbed his arm before he could slump to the floor; he slept soundly in spite of the rough touch. Takashi paused again, and then jerkily pulled Asato into a facsimile of the way he carried Ruka, and stood.

It was the longest time, Takashi realized as he put Asato down to sleep after depositing Ruka in her room, that he had touched his…Aimi's son.

* * *

"Haruna is leaving," Emiko informed the kitchen.

"What? Why?" Tomoko asked, looking up from where she had been washing dishes.

"She's with child, and this…the incident spooked her."

"I don't blame her," Kazuko said. "This isn't exactly the safest job in the world, with Asato around…"

"With those neighborhood hell-brats around, you mean," Tomoko corrected pointedly. "The boy doesn't hold up a sign, y'know."

"With those eyes, he does," Hayate said, sawing a loaf of bread in half.

"Every time he leaves the house, something bad happens," Kazuko continued. "Honestly, sometimes I wish Aimi-sama had let Takashi—"

"If you finish that sentence I won't be responsible for what I do," Emiko snapped, her hand dangerously close to a knife.

"Emiko, even when he's in the house…doesn't it seem odd to you?" Hayate asked. "There've been strange noises hereabouts ever since he was born. Haruna told me she's seen funny things around his room. And sometimes those eyes of his…"

"_I_ think his eyes are just lovely," Tomoko said, viciously scrubbing a bowl with her soapy rag.

"Well, _I_ think his eyes are the reason why Aimi-sama won't make old bones."

"_You_ be quiet!" Tomoko whipped around and flung her rag at Kazuko. "Don't you ever have anything decent to say about anybody? For Heaven's sake, do you have any idea what it's like to be that boy?"

"I don't care," Kazuko snarled. "All I care about is the fact that I've known Aimi-sama since we were little girls, and _she's_ not going to live out the month."

"If you cared at all about Aimi-sama you wouldn't say such horrible things about her children," Emiko spat.

"That _thing_ barely qualifies as a child. I'm half-expecting Takashi-sama to rid us all of it once Aimi-sama passes."

"And I'm half-expecting you to get fired if you keep up the noise," Daisuke said, entering the kitchen. "I can hear you all the way down the hall; do you think the rest of the house is deaf?"

"I don't care; they should hear it," Kazuko snapped. "That little monster killed his mother, and everyone here knows it."

* * *

_That little monster killed his mother._

_That little monster…_

…_killed his mother._

_That monster…_

_Killed…_

_Mother…_

_Monster._

_Monster._

_Killed._

_Mother._

_Killed._

_Killed._

_Monster killed…_

_Mother._

Mother… 

"Mom isn't dead," Ruka told him. "You're not a monster."

* * *

"Takashi…I think it's time."

"Aimi?"

She coughed. This time there was blood.

* * *

"Emiko, bring the children."

"Sir?"

"Go get all of them and bring them to their mother. She needs to see them."

* * *

"Don't get too close to me, now," Aimi said weakly, watching her small herd of children clamoring towards the mother they hadn't been allowed to see. "You don't want to get sick, too."

"We don't care, Mom," Ruka said, dragging Asato forward, towards Aimi's bed, despite every adult's protests. Asato hung back slightly behind his sister, hiding his face behind her shoulder.

"Well, _I_ care, Ruka," Aimi said, though indulgently, and coughed into her hand. Quickly she slipped her fistful of expectorate underneath her blanket. "None of my babies are ready to join me yet."

Ruka stepped back beside Asato in fear as Aimi seemingly emptied her lungs in her hands; Takashi went forward to take her in his arms, and her three remaining sons, with no one to prevent them, grouped together on the other side of the bed.

"Takashi, you make sure you wash off before you touch the children," Aimi instructed feebly, shaking in her husband's arms. He held her tighter to calm her, without success. "Okay…okay then. This is it, darlings."

"Mother—" Daiki started forward.

"Hush, Daikkun; don't you ever hush?" Aimi smiled at her firstborn. "Though…I think I'll miss your chatter. Look after your siblings, now. Father's got an awful lot of work to do…keep the twins behaved, okay? My dear little twins…"

"Take them out of here," Takashi ordered through gritted teeth, seeing Hideyoshi and Hiroto's uncomprehending eyes widen. "Aimi, you're scaring them."

"Yes, yes, take them out…" Aimi agreed, her eyes beginning to cloud. "Put them to bed, please, Emiko-chan…"

"Come…come on," Emiko said, her voice and lips shaking, taking either twin by either hand and pulling them out the door despite their protesting cries.

"Hi-kun, Hi-kun, be good, don't give her trouble," Aimi urged. "I love you. Sleep tight…"

"Aimi, stop it, please."

"Oh, hush, Takashi-koi. Hush, now, please…Daiki gets it from you, you know."

"Mommy—"

Aimi's head turned toward her thirdborn, who hadn't even raised his head to whisper his plea at her.

"Asato-kun…Mommy isn't angry at you," Aimi whispered. "Mommy's glad she had you. Remember…remember what I said? When you're upset, I look forward to when…I love it when you smile. Smile for me…please, for my sake, Asato-kun."

Asato's face finally showed itself; his lips were lifted up at the corners, supported by the memory of the last time he had been happy; his eyes were shut lightly and his head tilted to kept tears from spilling forth.

"Thank you, Asato…you're a good boy."

"Aimi?"

Aimi's head leaned back into Takashi's shoulder. Her eyes were rolled up, and a trail of blood stained the corner of her mouth. Her breathing, steeped in fluid, was painful to watch and to experience.

"'The dragon stood...in front of the woman who was about to give birth'…"

"What?"

"…'so that he might devour her child…the moment it was born. She gave birth to a son, a male child, who will'…no. 'And her child was snatched up to God…and to His throne. The woman…fled…into the desert…to a place prepared for her…by God…where she might be…taken…care of'…"

"Ready to go, Tsuzuki-san?"

Asato blinked the tears out of his eyes. He started, held back only by Ruka's death grip in his hand. He saw two official-looking men at Aimi's bedside now, between the mattress and his brothers.

"Yes…I think so," Aimi replied, but her gaze fell elsewhere than the new comers. The shorter of the two turned his head to follow Aimi's gaze, and his eyes rested on Asato.

"'S my mom," Asato whispered, staring back at the man, gaze unwavering.

"'The woman was given the two wings of a great eagle'," the man continued, his eyes soft. Aimi smiled her approval. "'So that she might fly to the place prepared for her in the desert, where she would be taken care of for a time, times and a half time, out of the serpent's reach'."

"What the hell are you talking about, Konoe?" the man's companion grunted. "Let's go."

"Mother?" Daiki asked, and suddenly the fog that had enveloped Asato for days was lifted. The two men disappeared, leaving Aimi's still body behind them in Takashi's arms.

"'Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them'," Takashi hoarsely forced himself to say. His hands shook in place of Aimi. "'But woe to the earth and sea, because the devil has…gone down to you'."


	5. Meetings and Departures

Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

* * *

"See, I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared."-Exodus, 23:20

* * *

Meetings and Departures

* * *

_-August, 1908_

"Thank you. I apologize."

The four youngest Tsuzuki children peeked around the corner as the door to Takashi's office slid shut. Kazuko took one last pause to stare down the hallway, glaring at the wisp of hair that was the last of Asato to duck behind the wall, and then turned, clutching her last commission. A group of people awaited her at the opposite end of the small hallway.

"And what are you four doing?"

The children gave quadruplet jumps and turned around. Emiko stood over them, frowning, her arms crossed.

"Don't waste a moment of your lives thinking of those people ever again," Emiko continued, loud enough for the small herd to hear her. Kazuko sent a venomous glare at her, to which Emiko returned an equally icy gaze. "There's one thing the revolution ushered in that I wish it hadn't: disloyalty."

"Emiko-san, you're staying?" Ruka asked.

"Of course I am. I've been with all of you since you were born. Your mother wouldn't forgive me if I abandoned you."

"Takenaka Emiko, empress of sanctimony," Kazuko snorted.

"Better than being a deserter," Emiko shot back.

"Fine then. Go ahead and get yourself killed because of that little monster."

A handful of running steps and a hard, audible slap, and suddenly the hallway was filled with jeers and squeals, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and wall and floor, children screaming for an authority that had gone missing.

"Stop it."

"What is the meaning of this?"

The door to the office snapped open and Takashi, flanked by his eldest, stepped out into the hallway, this mask of indifference he had worn for his absconding staff members replaced by the seething anger he had suppressed.

"Stop it!"

Hayate and Daisuke yanked the two women, bruised, clothes torn, away from each other, as the fraternal twins of anger struggled against their captors, starved for the violence Aimi had held in check for years with her imploring eyes and sad smile.

"_Stop it!_"

The din settled almost immediately at the shriek erupting violently from Asato's throat, breaking the silence it had kept refuge in for the handful of days since the men took Aimi away. His wide purple eyes disappeared behind screwed-up lids and without warning his little body slammed into the wall, as if shoved by some invisible force other than his own self-hatred.

"Stop that right now, Asato," Takashi said, his voice low and barely controlled as he reached out to grab the boy's arm.

"No!" Asato wrenched his arm free from Takashi's grasp and rolled away before smashing his head against the wall. He reeled and lurched forward, snatching up Kazuko's hand and refusing to relinquish it even as she cried out as if burned by his touch.

"You want to…you want to… I'm sorry, do it, you want to, do it, please, I'm sorry…"

Kazuko shoved him away viciously, sending him crashing to the floor, realizing too late that it was exactly what he wanted.

"Asato-otouto, stop it, please!" Ruka screamed as Asato stumbled back onto his feet and reeled back toward Kazuko. Her hand flailed in front of her as she tripped backwards, smacking him across the face.

"Go away!" Kazuko shrieked, tripping backwards. "Just…just get out of here, God damn you! Go die and rot! God damn you _back_ to Hell!"

Asato missed the hard, sudden slap Takashi gave to Kazuko's face along with the barked order to get out of his house. Within seconds he had disappeared from the hallway, and he shut the door against Ruka's frightened wails for him to come back.

* * *

It had been a long morning.

The confusion of the war had sent a lot of people across the country, and the resulting omnipresent pessimism had caused a crisis among her people as the spiritual power they depended on depleted as well as the availability of land. They had lost some of the older and less powerful to agnosticism alone.

Once they had rejoiced at the government's installation of required Shinto worship, but nationalism outweighed magic by leaps and bounds, proving to be no good to them.

Possessing dreams of high officials to convince them of the reality of the supernatural was not an easy job. Luckily though, she had managed to catch one during a daydream, the easiest time to convince anyone of anything. She herself felt revitalized by his belief in her existence already. Surely the children would be feeling less ill by the time she got back…

"Children…speak of the Devil."

* * *

"Hey…what's the matter, Bouya?"

An unfamiliar, warm hand descended on Asato's head; a woman with long black hair halfway pulled up in a bun knelt over him. Her long-nailed fingers gently brushed dirt and tears off his face.

"It's no good to lie in the middle of the road. Someone will run you over."

"I _deserve_ it," Asato whispered into the dust.

"I doubt it, but even if you do, think of the horse that'll trip over you; does it deserve a broken ankle?" she teased, gently cupping and lifting his face so he looked up into hers. "What's your name, Bouya?"

He hesitated. "Tsuzuki…" The name didn't belong to him. "A-Asato."

"Well, Tsuzuki-kun, let's get you off the ground." She took hold of his much smaller hands and half-dragged him to his feet, and then knelt to pick him up. Inadvertently he clung to her; she returned the tight embrace.

"Oh, and by the way, my name's Suzaku," she said, sitting on a cluster of rocks not far away from the roadside. "You can call me Suzaku-neesan; near everyone does. Do you have an older sister?"

Asato nodded. "Ruka."

"Such a pretty name." Suzaku adjusted him so he sat in her lap facing her. "How about a mother? Do you have one of those? Where might she be?"

The innocent, facetious questions of an awkward authority figure ripped fresh holes in Asato's heart. Tears welled in his eyes and his face disappeared into Suzaku's bosom.

"Tsuzuki-kun? Is your mother…?" Suzaku pulled the rest of his body closer to her, wrapping her one hand around his head and using the other to soothingly rub his back. "I'm so sorry; I never would have said anything if I…"

"I killed my mommy."

"I am sure you did not," Suzaku said, tweaking his ear for emphasis.

"No, I did!" Asato yelled, looking up. Suzaku nearly winced at the pained, tearful little face. "They hurt her 'cause they hate me. 'Cause my eyes…"

"I've seen eyes stranger than yours," Suzaku interrupted firmly, fingers working the boy's face to take away his tears. "One of my friends has children with pure white eyes. And I have a friend who doesn't _have_ any eyes. That's nothing new, where I'm from. My same friend with the children; he has blue hair, too. And so do they, come to think of it. In fact, you'd fit right in at Gensoukai, if only you weren't so normal."

"G-…Gensoukai?"

"Well, it's more like a really big clan than a country right now. I was…ah, _negotiating_ with some government folks today on my clan's behalf."

"Sorry I 'stracted you…"

"Don't be. I was actually on my way back home." Despite the boy's stubborn tears Suzaku felt herself even more rejuvenated. The conversation with this child sitting in her lap was bolstering her life-force more than entering someone's dreams ever had. She had been on the verge of dying not long ago and being with this boy reminded her y that she was a phoenix, reborn from ashes, in every wa. The boy himself was just so _pure_…

"I think I'd like to take you to Gensoukai with me," Suzaku said. "You could help a lot of us there."

Asato shook his head. "No…no I couldn't. I can't help anybody."

…so pure and there was so much love and…

'A contract…five minutes with him and you want to make a contract.'

"No, believe me. I feel better just sitting here with you; the ones I'm with surely would—"

"Are you sick?" Asato interrupted, feeling a knot of panic in his intestines. Aimi's gray face appeared in his mind's eye.

"I was, but you've made me feel much better. My…my clan is very different, in that we need other people to acknowledge us so we can stay alive. You're the longest talk I've had with an "outsider" since…well, it's been a very, very long time."

"And it makes you…not sick?"

"Yes."

"I make you better?"

"That's right." The wonderment in the child's eyes struck Suzaku as excessive.

"S-so…if I went with you…"

"Asato-otouto!"

"Is that your sister?" Suzaku asked, not really needing an answer. Asato stiffened as he turned and slid off Suzaku's lap; Suzaku sensed his plans to flee and grabbed his hand.

"Asato-otouto!" The greenery on the opposite side of the road parted like the Red Sea for a new Moses. A visibly furious Ruka stomped nearly the entire way across the dirt road.

"You…you…you…thank you, lady."

"It wasn't any trouble," Suzaku said, half-smiling.

"Asato-otouto, let's go home now," Ruka said, stabbing the air with her proffered hand. "Kazuko left; they all did, and Daddy wants to tell us something."

Asato shook his head and stepped back; Suzaku's grip on his hand tightened.

"You _have_ to come home."

"No."

"Asato-otouto!"

"Don't…don't call me that."

"You're my brother!"

"No I'm not. I killed Mommy…"

"No!" Ruka yelled, her eyes glistening. "No you didn't! It was _them_, and everyone who left's an idiot, and…and you're my brother!"

The wetness in her eyes burst forth into sobs. Asato's hand pulled free of Suzaku's and he ran, not backwards but forwards, flinging his arms around his sister to will away the first tears he remembered seeing from her.

"You're a Tsuzuki!" Ruka yelled, wrenching him off her by the shoulders and shaking him. "Mom said you were her son so you're part of my family! You have to come home, Asato-otouto; you have to stay with me!"

Suzaku stood and deftly pulled them out of the street, away from the path of an oncoming carriage. Ruka was still yelling, but her sobbing combined with Asato's made the words unintelligible. Suzaku found herself trapped between the rock she'd been sitting on and the two crying children clinging to each other.

She sat down, and waited.

* * *

"Sir?"

"What do you want, Emiko?"

"I wanted to apologize for causing such a disturbance this morning," Emiko said, bowing. "It was entirely unprofessional of me."

"You're forgiven." Takashi rose only to sit again by the window, breathing his anxiety deeply.

"They'll be fine," Emiko said gently. "So long as those two are together, they'll be okay."

"Do you think so?"

"I've been with both of them since the day they were born; I know so." She smiled nostalgically. "I remember the day Asato came; Ruka wouldn't let go of his ear, remember?"

"Yes…I remember that day quite vividly."

"They look after each other, those two. It's good. Ruka's the only girl; she needs someone to boss around, to empower her. And Asato…he really needs someone to protect. He's so much like Aimi-sama; he loves looking after people…Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What you did this morning…when Kazuko said those awful things…why did you hit her?"

"You said it yourself, Emiko."

"Sir?"

"Because he's so much like Aimi."

* * *

"Tsuzuki-kun, I think you should go home," Suzaku said gently. The sun was fading into a red and orange sky, and the wailing had finally subsided into soft whimpers and sniffles hidden in each other's shoulders.

"But you said—"

"You can't come with me. Not with a family waiting for you. Just you guys believing should be fine for now. I wasn't expecting to come across you two, so I already made out better today than I thought I would."

"But I want to help you!" Asato yelped. "You can't die, Neesan!"

"Me too!" Ruka tugged on Suzaku's hand, having heard of her plight when Suzaku retold the story just to distract them all. "Can't we help you some other way?"

"Well…there is a way you can…"

Suzaku was bombarded with a chorus of "How? How?" and she placed her index fingers on both pairs of lips to shush them.

"It's called a contract."

"Daddy makes those all the time!" Ruka said, comfortable in the pseudo-familiarity. "What'a we gotta do?"

"Not much, besides believe in me. In return, I appear whenever you need me. I protect you, and you keep me alive."

"Like a dog?" Asato asked.

"Well…yes." Suzaku laughed. "Like a great big guard dog, but better."

"So where do we sign?" Ruka asked eagerly.

"You don't; I do. Here, give me your hands."

Four palms thrust themselves in front of Suzaku as four eyes looked up at her expectantly.

"Whenever you need to see me like this, in my human form, all you need to say is…" Suzaku placed the tip of her nail at the edge of Asato's right hand, "'Come out, Suzaku'." As she spoke the words she drew a pattern across the children's hands. "But when you need me in my phoenix form, you have to say…" she drew a more complicated pattern, "'I bow to thee and beseech you, the god who protects me. Come out, Suzaku'."

Asato withdrew his hand quickly, looking stricken.

"What's the matter?"

"We're…" Ruka swallowed and sized up the woman before her, trying to measure how much discretion lay in her. "We're Christians. We only believe in one God."

"Oh! I don't mean 'god' like _God_, God," Suzaku explained hastily. "People used to think we were gods, so we worded our contracts like that. That's something I can't really change, but it's nothing you should be worried about, anyway. "

"Oh, so it's like when Daddy was in England; he said they all said "gods" when they were talking about Greek stuff," Ruka explained to her skeptical brother. "He showed me it, in his books."

"If you don't want to say it, just summon me in my human form," Suzaku offered. "I doubt you're ever going to need me in my phoenix form."

"O-…okay," Asato said, reluctant.

"Good. Then, I think now is when I take my leave of you. Ruka-chan, Tsuzuki-kun, it's been a pleasure."

"Oh, um, Suzaku-neesan?"

Suzaku stopped at Ruka's call. "Yes?"

"You just called me "Ruka"."

"Right. Should I not have?"

"No, you can," Ruka assured quickly, "but you didn't say "Asato"."

"Nope," Suzaku drawled, smiling. "Didn't you say he was a Tsuzuki, Ruka-chan?"

* * *

"I am not even going to bother with yelling at you two."

"Thank you, Daddy," Ruka murmured.

"I _am_ going to remind you that it is incredibly foolish to leave the house right now," Takashi continued as if Ruka had said nothing. The two children were seated on the floor, looking down, and still holding hands. "I've already informed your brothers of this. We have never been popular, but now…after your mother…even without that, I have been told to my face that no one can guarantee our safety anymore, not even the police. There is no one we can rely on in Ageo. Hereafter you both are absolutely forbidden to leave the house."

"Yes, Father," Ruka and Asato said as one.

"In any case, you will be too busy packing up your things to want to go wandering."

"What?" Asato asked.

"You don't think we can possibly stay here if we can't trust anybody, do you? I won't risk any of my household's safety just for my job."

"Where are we going?" Ruka piped up.

"Tokyo. I'm near enough to run the station, but far enough to keep all of you safe."

"When are we moving?"

"As soon as earthly possible. Ruka, go start now. Alone," he added, seeing the pair rise together. "I want a word with your brother."

"Okay…" Ruka bit her lip but obeyed.

"Asato, I absolutely mean it," Takashi said, as soon as the door slid shut behind Ruka. "You are forbidden to leave this house before we leave for Tokyo. If I find you've risked your life again like you did today…don't disobey me. You aren't ready to be with your mother."

"I won't."

"I know…" Takashi ceased the pacing he had started upon Ruka's exit. "I know we both want to join her…but she asked me to keep you safe, and I will not let you go to her. It's the only thing I can do for her. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, go join your sister. She's probably waiting for you down the hallway."

Asato rose, and hesitated at the door. "Um…"

"What is it?"

"We met a lady today," Asato said, "me and Ruka. She wasn't from around here. She called me "Tsuzuki"."

"And?"

"Do you…if we ever see her again, do you mind if she still calls me that?"

"No," Takashi said, listlessly. "I don't care. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Thank you."

"_Thank you,"_ a female voice whispered to Takashi as Asato disappeared.

* * *

Note regarding the contract: I re-listened to Tsuzuki's chant to summon Suzaku, and he says "kami" instead of "shikigami". "Kami" is one of those nebulous words that translates best as "one(s) residing above", and as far as I can tell, "kami-sama" is used as a title for a singular God (in Fruits Basket, Haru demands of Motoko, "Who do you think you are? God?" using the phrase "kami-sama". I think that if he were referring to gods in the Shinto sense, he'd just say "kami". Besides, I'm not entirely sure that traditional kami make rules).

In any case, considering the Tsuzuki family's fear of being found out, I imagine they would have used "kami" to refer to God, since there's no pluralizing of words in Japanese, so an outsider wouldn't know if they were referring to a Christian God or Shinto gods. Hence there was confusion and holy horror from Ruka and Asato, since they'd see it as heresy to refer to Suzaku as "kami".

I do wonder how Suzaku's line ("I don't mean 'god' like _God_, God.") would sound in Japanese.

"Kami to shite kotoba wa onaji no yoo ni jitsu no kami-sama imi suru kangaeru hazu desu imi shite imasen."

I think.

The above, if I'm right, translates to "I don't mean that you are supposed to consider the word 'god' to mean the same as the actual God."


	6. My Sister, My Bride

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Note:** I had the sudden realization that Takashi reminds me of Seiryuu. Also, Patrinia is a yellow flower that blooms in August. I'm not sure if it's grown in Japan, though.

* * *

"If the pomegranates are in bloom, there I will give you my love." – Song of Songs; 7:12

* * *

My Sister, My Bride

* * *

_-August 23__rd__, 1914_

"Asato-otouto, I thought you loved me."

"What?" Asato looked up, stricken. Ruka held a fork to her mouth, off which she had just bitten a morsel of the apple pie she had supervised her brother in making.

"How could you try to poison me with this?" Ruka waved her fork in the air and then stabbed the pie. "What kind of brother are you?"

"What are you talking about? It's not that bad!"

"Asato-otouto, you'd eat pond scum if it was on a plate, but some of us have more _refined_ palettes."

"It's not that bad!" Asato insisted. "Suzaku-neesan, what do you think?"

Suzaku nervously pushed her food around her plate, watching it crumble. "Well…"

"See? She doesn't even want to try it!"

"Well, you _watched_ me make it, so what does that say about you, Miss Master Chef?"

"So you admit that your pie is awful."

"That's not the point! And the only reason it's awful is because _you_ were too busy daydreaming about Shinji to help me."

"So you being a terrible cook had nothing to do with it?" Ruka flung back.

"Shinji? Who is this now?" Suzaku interrupted, stiffening maternally. "No secrets from Neesan, Ruka-chan."

"Yuuki's brother," Ruka said, decidedly ignoring Asato. "I made one little comment that he was good-looking—which Asato-otouto _agreed to_—and nowhe won't stop making fun of me."

"Isn't it in your holy book somewhere…"thou shalt not lie with thy brother's wife's brother" or something?"

"I'm not lying with anyone!" Ruka yelped, her face heavily flushed. "And no it isn't, Suzaku-neesan."

"Aren't you a little old to have imaginary friends, Ruka?"

Ruka and Asato simultaneously rolled their eyes, now well-used to the reality that only their eyes could see, and ears hear, Suzaku.

"What about Asato-otouto?" Ruka asked her elder brother, winking her good-bye as Suzaku grinned and slowly disappeared into thin air, a trick she told them she was now able to accomplish due to them. "He's only a year younger than me."

"You can't be a little girl anymore, Ruka," Daiki chastised. "The world's at war, and now so are we."

"We're _what_?" Ruka's fork fell from her hand.

"It was announced this morning. Japan is officially part of the war effort against Germany."

"And here I thought Japan had some common sense," Ruka muttered.

"We want Tsingtao, that's what it is," Asato said, leaning forward, towards Ruka.

"And the Marshall Islands, too."

"Germany didn't bother responding to our ultimatum, Ruka," Daiki reminded impatiently. "Besides which, we already signed a treaty with England twelve years ago. They've called us on it."

"Well, Japan's certainly friendly with England now. Where was that when we were little?"

"You're avoiding the issue, Ruka."

"Well, how am I supposed to react if my brother is going to get himself killed in a war that isn't ours?"

"The same way I did…tell him he's a fool and then let him do what he wants."

"Where'd you pop up from, Yuuki?" Daiki muttered, not bothering to turn and look at her.

"I've been standing behind you the whole time," Yuuki said, accusingly.

"Right where you belong," Daiki flung back, annoyed.

"So much affection in this room," Ruka whispered to Asato, who nodded and bit his lip.

"Like I said, a fool who does, and says, whatever he wants," Yuuki muttered, huffing past her husband of a few months to take Suzaku's place at the table.

"Does Father know about this yet?" Asato asked of his elder brother. "And the tw—…Hideyoshi and Hiroto?"

"I think I figured out that they're twins, Asato," Yuuki said, smiling. "They look exactly alike. And your brother asked you a question, Daiki. Do you plan on answering him anytime soon?"

"Shut up, Yuuki."

"My husband, everybody. And, no, he hasn't," she addressed Asato. "He was on his way to, but decided scolding you two was more important."

"In any case, Ruka, we defeated Russia in a year; it's not like our military can't stand up to European powers."

"Great, now he's ignoring us both," Yuuki said, grinning at Asato; he smiled back at her weakly.

"This is an entirely different situation," Ruka shot back. "You don't know what the Germans fight like, or—"

"Ruka, where's Father?"

"Out. I think he's meeting with his investors. And now who's avoiding the issue?"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Ruka. And it really isn't becoming for a woman to argue so much."

"No wonder he doesn't find me attractive," Yuuki commented, still smiling broadly at her brother-in-law.

"Yuuki, that's enough!" Daiki yelled, turning finally towards his wife.

"_I'll_ decide when it's enough!" Yuuki shouted back, standing up and nearly upsetting the table. For a long moment Asato supposed he saw lightning flying between Daiki and Yuuki's eyes.

"Save the warfare for the Germans," Ruka finally said, tugging on her sister-in-law's hand and pulling her back down.

"Send for me when Father gets home," Daiki said through clenched teeth, turning sharply.

"At least I won't have to look at him for a few months at a stretch," Yuuki muttered as Daiki disappeared.

"Yuuki, that's my brother."

"I pity you your childhood, Ruka-chan," Yuuki said, but was once again smiling.

"We never really had much to do with him," Asato said, leaning closer now towards Yuuki.

"Nonetheless, he's still our brother, Asato-otouto," Ruka said pointedly, gaze darting back and forth between her brother and sister-in-law.

"Oh, I get that, don't think I don't," Yuuki said. "Shinji can be an enormous brat sometimes and I still adore him. Unfortunately, I only know Daiki in the context of an arranged marriage, and I can assure you, Ruka-chan, that he is the absolute worst husband, in every possible context."

"Too much information, Yuuki-chan," Ruka said, laughing, her gaze still glued to her younger brother.

"One can never have too much of the truth; it "shall set you free", after all." Yuuki picked up the fork Suzaku had abandoned and speared the untouched piece of pie. "Who made this?" she asked, placing a small morsel on her tongue.

"Asato-otouto," Ruka said, and Yuuki's face slightly contorted as she chewed and hastily swallowed.

"Sorry," Asato said, shamefaced.

"There's been much worse," Yuuki said, and coughed. She turned a strained but bright smile on Asato. "Okay…it's a gorgeous day and I've just received the glorious news that Daiki will not be hogging the sheets for at least a few months. I'm going to go celebrate in the garden. Ruka-chan." Yuuki leaned over and kissed her sister-in-law's cheek, a habit she had picked up from being an industrious student of European culture. "Asato…-kun," she continued, just barely stopping herself from performing the same gesture on Asato. "If you'll excuse me." She stood and left the dining room, almost too hurriedly for normalcy's standards.

"You're never going to get a girl unless you learn how to cook better," Ruka said to Asato's profile, as he continued to stare after Yuuki. "Servants are going to become rare if we're spending our money on war, and girls like men who help around the house…"

"Yuuki didn't think it was too bad."

"Asato-otouto." When he didn't turn his head to look at her Ruka threw her fork at him, catching his attention only barely.

"What?"

"Don't do it."

"Do what?"

"You know what. Don't even think about it. She's spoken for."

"Oh, come on, Ruka. Even if I had feelings for her, it's not like she'd have them for me."

"You so obviously do not understand women." Ruka stood.

"I understand you."

"I'm your best friend. Of course you understand me."

"So you're saying that you're not a woman, Ruka-nii?"

"Asato." The lack of an affection-denoting suffix took him off guard. "She's Daiki's wife."

"I know, Ruka-nee."

"Knowing and acknowledging are two different things. You're not too good at either," Ruka said, winking in an attempt at familiarity. When he gave no similar body language, she bit her lip. "Asato-otouto…just don't make Mom ashamed of you."

"Ruka-nee?"

She gave a half-hearted smile and left the dining room, hoping the admonishment would be enough.

* * *

"Asato-kun, do you mind keeping me company?"

"Huh?" Asato looked up; the plate had suddenly seemed fascinating after Ruka's departure. The window showing the garden to the kitchen was suddenly filled with Yuuki's head.

"It's a bit lonely out here," Yuuki said, grinning. "Everyone's busy telling everyone else about the war, so when you already know, no one wants anything to do with you."

"Sure, I'll…I'll be right there," Asato said, standing.

"The Patrinia is coming along nicely," Yuuki said once Asato had made his way outside. "You planted that?"

"Yes. The roses at your wedding; I did those, too."

"Oh, yeah, I remember. Best thing about the wedding, those were."

"Yuuki…"

"Hmm?"

"My brother…do you really hate him so much?"

"Yes," Yuuki said, crouching down and then resting on her knees, fingertips tracing the ground. "If he was my brother-in-law…if I'd married _you_," she bit back a smile at the flustered look on his face, "I could tolerate him for family get-togethers, but actually being married to him…he's one of those people you just want to slap every time you see them, because you're still annoyed at them from the last time you saw them. So every time I turn my head, it's the same feeling, you know?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"It's not that I hate being married," Yuuki continued. "I don't mind someone sharing a bed with me. I just mind that someone being _him_. Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"It's not exactly a situation I enjoy thinking about."

"You and me both. Sit, sit!" She patted the earth in front of her, and Asato did as bade. "Enjoy what you've planted. It's beautiful, Asato."

"Thank you."

"The Patrinia reminds me of that Englishwoman we had 'round for dinner awhile back. It's the same color as her hair. The color _I_ want, actually. Not this ugly black. Everyone in Japan looks the same."

"I like your hair," Asato blurted out.

Yuuki inclined her head and raised her eyebrows. "Really? You think I have bad taste in hair color?"

"No, blonde is nice, too," he continued quickly.

"Don't get all flustered, Asato-kun; I was just teasing," Yuuki said, patting his head. "So you wouldn't mind being with a blonde?"

"It doesn't really matter to me."

"While we're on the topic…" Yuuki said, and her voice hitched just the slightest. "Do you…happen to have anyone special? Anyone intended to become your intended that you've been keeping secret from the family?"

"No," Asato said, laughing at her wordplay. "Why, are there rumors?"

"Well…" Asato was taken aback at her hesitancy. "Well, yes, but none I think you'd be so flattered to hear about."

"How's that?" he asked, a knot developing in his stomach.

"Well, there's two strains of thought that I've heard. The one is that…well, that you, um, like the looks of my brother."

"And the other?" Asato pressed, avoiding debate of the truth.

"Well, I thought you might…well, I know there's some who think you're in love with…with Ruka-chan."

"_What?!_"

"You spend so much time with her," Yuuki explained hastily. "You share an _imaginary friend_ with her…and I've seen you two practicing that ballroom stuff, and the way you dance…frankly, Asato-kun, it's difficult to make a case for you _not_ being in love with her."

"Ruka is my _best friend_!" Asato yelped, aghast. "We've been inseparable since I was born. There's nothing wrong in spending time with her."

"Yes, but, every waking moment?"

"Who else is there for me to spend time with? I love the twins but we share nothing in common. Father and I have never been close, and Daiki…well, you've probably already picked up on that."

"I have. He was being especially rude this morning. What's his issue with you, anyway?"

The knot tightened. "That's something I prefer not to talk about."

"Oh, it can't be _so_ bad. Daiki's an obnoxious donkey to _everybody_; it doesn't take much to make him angry with you."

"The last time Daiki spoke to me was in July of 1908."

"_It's your fault Mother's in this condition."_

"Well, that trumps me. The longest he's ever given me the silent treatment is two weeks. What happened?"

"Yuuki, no." He swallowed; the knot was making him nauseous. "I told you, it's not something I want to talk about."

"Oh, come on, Asato, _please_?" She pouted her lips. "I promise I'll take it to the grave—"

The word was too much. "I said "no", God damn it! Drop it!"

Yuuki blinked at the force in Asato's voice. After a silent moment, her eyes narrowed.

"There's no need for that tone," she said coolly. "For Heaven's sake, it was just a question."

"I'm sorry."

"You're just like Daiki, aren't you, that same egotistical, pompous horse's ass—"

"Yuuki, I'm sorry," Asato said quickly, hand reaching out to grab Yuuki's arm, retreating with the rest of her body out of the garden.

"The men in your family are all the same," Yuuki spat, eyes snapping fire. "Putting everyone else below them. Like your damnable father, practically _buying_ me from my family to be Daiki's ornament. Did you know that Daiki hits me? I'm fifteen years old, Asato, and I'm already being beaten by my husband."

"Yuuki, that isn't—"

"Well, I've had enough with being walked on by all of you. I hope the Germans blow Daiki to tiny pieces; I hope—!"

She was cut off abruptly by Asato yanking her back down to the ground and kissing her fiercely. His grip left her wrist and instead went around her back to her opposing arm, holding her against him as his free hand snaked around her head and buried itself in her hair. Her nails, trapped with her hands at her sides, dug into his legs, but they slackened as the kiss progressed and she began reciprocating.

Whether they lost balance or moved purposely, Asato never remembered; they found themselves lying on the ground, Asato's arms still tightly wrapped around Yuuki.

"That isn't what happened with my father," Asato said, breathlessly. "He wanted to help your family out, and Daiki needed to get married…"

"I know, I know, I like your father, I was just angry," Yuuki said, sounding dazed for the first time Asato could recall.

"And I didn't know that Daiki…my father never hit my mother—"

"I hit him back," Yuuki said. "Sometimes I hit him first. We're not very good to each other."

"I hate that," Asato said, taking hold of the small of her back. "You don't deserve that."

"I manage. I'm not some…some wilting flower, if you'll excuse…our setting. So I…so I take it we're having an affair?" She smiled, strong lips paired with weak eyes. Her bare toes danced on his ankle.

"It's a stupid idea," Asato said, trying to remember all the reasons why, exactly, it was such. "Ruka…Ruka already thinks something's going on and she might tell Daiki…even if she doesn't it'd be easy for anyone to find out, and I'm…well, my eyes—"

"You know, I never really noticed your eyes," Yuuki interrupted. "When I first saw you I liked them so much that it didn't even occur to me that the color was strange." Her arms, now free, wrapped around Asato's neck, and she pushed her body upwards against his. "And you kiss better than your brother, so why would I care about something as stupid as that…"

Her kimono was loosening with every slight tug of muscle. The specifics flew out of his mind, and the tight knot loosened just enough for him to ignore it; the vibrations from Yuuki's throat felt nice against his lips, better than any sweet thing that had been there previously.


	7. For I Have Sinned

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:** The priest's absolution is different from what any Catholics in the audience might experience. That's because the prayer used changed after the Second Vatican Council. That was 1962, and this is 1917, so…yeah. Traditionally the absolution is said in Latin, but I wrote the translation so you could understand it. There's also a prayer made by the priest between the confession and the absolution, but I wasn't sure if that was a new addition, or if the Japanese church would use it, and besides it made the opening too long, so I left it out. I also wasn't sure where exactly the penitent's prayer of contrition was supposed to go, so I tacked it on after the absolution. Catholics, feel free to correct me.

Trivia: The church they're in is St. Mary's Cathedral. It's in Bunkyo, which is in Tokyo Prefecture, and was the closest church to Tokyo-shi that I could find (it's not to be confused with St. Mary's Cathedral in Nagasaki, better known as Urakami Cathedral, the largest church in East Asia). Built in 1899, St. Mary's Cathedral was destroyed during WWII, and replaced with a more modern building in 1964 (the year Muraki was born, funnily enough).

Speaking of Muraki, I've made Daiki frighteningly like him.

I'm trying to weave in as much history as possible, as well as try to actually write a decent-sized chapter (seriously, I'm stuck on this one), so here's a few notes you'll need to know: at the turn of the century America and Japan were having extremely strained relationships over economic influence, land holding, and immigration. "The SMR" is the South Manchurian Railway (I doubt it was referred to by those initials IRL, but bear with me), which Japan had forced China to sign over to them in 1905. The Roosevelt administration didn't take any specific action at the time, but I assume it hurt the railway business and associated industries, which I've made Takashi a part of. "The Demands" are the Twenty-One Demands Japan gave to China in 1915, which basically made China Japan's economic bitch. America announced that it wouldn't recognize any policy that interfered with the Open Door policy currently in place. Which didn't do a whole lot of practical good for China, but I'm betting it was enough to annoy Japan.

* * *

"A time to kill and a time to heal" – Ecclesiastes, 3:3

* * *

For I Have Sinned

* * *

_-March, 1917_

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. Since then I have…continued my affair with my brother's wife, and also felt myself desirous of her brother. Daily."

He had gotten tired of saying it; he was sure the priest was weary of hearing it.

"May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and by His authority I absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, so far as my power allows and your needs require. Thereupon, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen. May the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the merits of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints obtain for you that whatever good you do or whatever evil you bear might merit for you the remission of your sins, the increase of grace and the reward of everlasting life."

"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You, and I detest all my sins, because I fear the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell, but most of all because they offend You, my God, who is all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of Your grace to sin no more, to do penance, and to amend my life. Amen."

The Eucharist had tasted bitter for the past three years.

* * *

"You'd think Tokyo was on fire, the way everyone's running around."

"Remember, some people are happy to have the soldiers coming home. "Furlough" isn't a dirty word to them." Yuuki smiled at her sister-in-law from across the table, and took a sip of her tea. Ruka's bloodshot eyes, dark pink cheeks, and runny nose showed her excuse for not attending Mass with her family.

"And I'm not happy Daiki's still in one piece?"

Yuuki made a silly face. "Actually, you're one of the few."

"Oh, come on, Yuuki, not even a little?"

"Well…just a tad. For your sake. And your father and the twins."

"And Asato-otouto?"

Yuuki put her cup down and pushed her hair behind her ears. "He's torn. Daiki coming home means he's alive and well…it also means we can't be together for the time Daiki's here."

"There's also the fact that someone might tell Daiki what's going on."

"Is that a warning?"

""Am I my brother's keeper"? No. Tattling on Asato has only ever led to bad things. I won't put him through that again."

"So you value Asato over Daiki, then?"

Ruka frowned. "Daiki is my brother; Asato is both my brother and my friend. Besides, it's his responsibility to confess. Or yours, for that matter."

"I've actually been wondering what Daiki's reaction would be," Yuuki said, running her finger around the rim of her tea cup. "It's not like he's all that attached to me. Would he even care?"

"Daiki is a stickler for principles. Even if he hates your miserable guts, he expects you to be faithful to him, just because you're his wife. It's probably the same reason he's even in the military…he's a Japanese male, so it's his duty to protect the country. It's the samurai in him."

* * *

_"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori."_

The German prisoners-of-war were constantly saying that. Some poet or other had written the quip centuries ago, and it had gotten all the German boy-men into their uniforms. Daiki's background in Latin, the second language he had been practically breastfed on like his brothers and sister, allowed him to be the only sailor on board who knew what they were saying, and the other soldiers asked him to translate.

_"It is sweet and fitting to die for your country."_

He often parroted the line before opening fire. Sometimes the dying foreigner would choke and whisper the words while he waited for Daiki or some other Japanese combatant to give the finishing blow. Perhaps it was not so sweet to die on the floor of an enemy ship with a bullethole in the head letting your brains leak out, but Daiki thought it was certainly fitting. Liars and cowards who didn't adhere to deals proposed by civilized countries deserved grisly deaths, after all. Daiki reminded himself of this every moment of privacy he had, while furiously masturbating to the thought of some other liar, traitor, coward, worthless scum on their knees knowing there'd be no mercy for him…for her…whomever it was in those fantasies.

Aimi had tried to train him out of those thoughts. _"No one is superior to anyone else." "Don't stoop to their level, Daiki." "God loathes violence." "It breaks my heart to see you be so mean to your brother."_

Aimi was some otherwordly creature, one that wouldn't survive in this world because she didn't know its rules. It was why she was dead, Daiki had figured out…had she thrown away her worthless third child, she would still be alive.

She'd been a fool, Daiki finally admitted to himself, swallowing the bitter pill almost with a relish no matter how much he had adored her. And Daiki wasn't a fool.

* * *

Dinner that night was a chilly affair. Even the precense of dinner guests—both Daiki's and Yuuki's families—did nothing to add life to the gathering. No one seemed to know, whether they were awed or horrified, how to deal with the fact that Daiki had made a living by killing people for the past three years. As a result, the man of the hour was largely ignored.

Not that he minded. It wasn't like he had ever been fond of his siblings, and since he barely welcomed Yuuki into his house, her family was more like beggars that he allowed in to appear generous in front of his neighbors than his in-laws.

Particularly irritating to him was Asato's apparent determination not to look him in the eyes. He hated the little bastard but wanted him to be more like the proud Germans on the warships. It was much more gratifying to break an enemy spirit if they thought themselves guiltless.

It was a trememdous relief when the relatives began to filter out; the twins first; then Ruka and Shinji, chastity safely guarded by Yuuki's parents; until only Takashi and Asato remained. Yuuki stood stiffly off to the side with Asato, regarding Daiki with an unreadable look. He sent her a sneer and then turned his full attention to his father.

"How is the war really going? We hear everything from the government, but…"

"Fine, as far as we can tell. But it looks like the damn Americans will be throwing their hat in soon, and no one's looking forward to that."

"I do business with some of those "damn Americans", Daiki."

"Yeah, and you've been suffering for it, I'll wager. Ever since the whole business with the SMR—"

"My God, you remember that? You were nine at the time; let it go. I did. I'd be…I _am_ more concerned about their reaction to the Demands."

"They're sitting on their hands about China. They need to protect their interests. I can't believe you haven't pushed this advantage, Father."

"I don't do business like that, Daiki. We've been over this. Your mother would never forgive me if I resorted to tactics like that."

"If you'll forgive me for saying so, Mother could've stood knowing the proper way to deal with non-humans."

Asato flinched, but the sting at the underhanded jab suddenly disappeared with the sound of Takashi's hand against Daiki's face.

"I am still your father. You will not speak ill of your family in my precense."

"I apologize," Daiki said, automatically, casting his eyes away to glare at the wall. Takashi could be quite annoying in this regard as well, though he at least had the good sense to not show fondness towards the sub-human in question.

"I think it best that we leave," Yuuki piped up.

"You'll stay where you are, Yuuki."

"Last time I checked slavery was illegal," she returned coolly, turning and pushing open the sliding door. Asato quickly followed her, bowing his good-byes to his father and brother.

* * *

"Insufferable bastard," Yuuki muttered, slamming the sliding door into place. "I'm not going to survive this…"

"Just two weeks, Yuuki."

"What the hell were my parents thinking, marrying me off to him? There are four of you, you'd think they'd have married me off to a better son just by playing the odds…"

"The problem is we're all younger. Daiki just _got_ to get married before us because he's firstborn."

"Asato, do you think…if Daiki doesn't survive the war…"

"Yuuki, please don't talk about that."

"Well, you know, it's not like I'm ever going to wake up to find a mikudori-han with my breakfast! I'm _sorry_ the only way I can imagine myself being happy requires your brother at the bottom of the Mediterranean, but that's how it is, Asato!" She slapped a hand to her forehead and pushed her bangs back. "I don't know why you care so much considering how terribly he's treated you…"

"He's still my brother."

She made a disgusted noise. "Of course he is. You're going to be walked on all your life if you keep this up, Asato. Grow a damn backbone!" She pushed him, more violently than she meant to. He didn't resist the shove, but merely swayed on his feet. Unlike Ruka, Yuuki had never been strong.

"Hey."

Both were startled by the sudden appearance of Ruka's head over the hedge.

"I think it's in both your interests to keep it down. There's lot of things wrong with Daiki but his hearing isn't one of them."

"You know what, Ruka? I really don't care," Yuuki snarled, not looking at her sister-in-law. "Asato, if I don't leave I'm just going to end up yelling at you. I'll see you in two weeks."

"Yuuki—!" Her long black hair, blowing in the night wind, had already disappeared around the corner.

"Trouble in paradise?" Ruka quipped.

"She's just upset. I think she was hoping he'd be a little changed."

"I think that's what you were hoping." Ruka rested her chin precariously on the budding, weak twigs of the hedge. "She's not quite so optimistic. She's upset, but because she's frustrated. By the way, I heard that line about the Mediterranean. I love her dearly, but she isn't as noble as we'd like her to be."

"I'm the ignoble one."

"Hey." Ruka's arm just barely reached over the wall of greenery and awkwardly swatted his head. "None of that." She shook her finger, and Asato had to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the sight before him. "It's takes two to tango…and to have an affair."

"All right, none of that," Asato said, swallowing his laugh, though a familiar knot had already formed in his stomach.

"I mean it," Ruka said, and her hand rested atop his head. "She's with you of her own free will. And she hates Daiki of her own free will, too."

* * *

"I've been having an affair."

It had been thirteen days of silence. She hadn't left the house and hadn't known what to do with herself. Teakettles were constantly whistling angrily over the fire. Her voice resembled those teakettles now.

"With who?" It seemed like the question to ask.

"It doesn't matter."

"With Asato, then?"

Yuuki inclined her head. The silent affirmation irritated him less than being forced to speak his brother's name.

"Tramp."

"Oh, come off it. When's the last time you cared who I sleep with? You're hardly interested when it's you."

"You are my wife."

"Could've fooled me. The other war wives are showing off their letters and counting days until their husbands come home. Me? Not one letter for three years, and I'm counting seconds until I move back in with your family."

"How convenient you've waited until my last night here to tell me this. Did you plan it that way, Yuuki?"

"No. I'm not afraid of you telling anyone. If you survive this war, you'd be forever known as the cuckold, and business depends far too much on reputation, doesn't it?"

"That means nothing to me."

"Well, then, think of your father. We've been carrying on right under his nose, and he'd be a laughingstock if anyone were to find out."

Daiki sent her the glare of a cat backed into a corner. Filial piety trumped the desire to shame her.

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Because I wanted to trap you," she snarled viciously. "Like I'm trapped in this ridiculous farce of a marriage. There is something about you, Daiki, that makes people want to hurt others. I guess you're more influential than I thought."

"And where do you think you're going?" Daiki's hand reached out towards Yuuki, turning to leave. His fingers closed tightly around her wrist.

"I don't think either of us have the desire to be in each other's company at the moment," she said flatly, her voice controlled.

"I never have the desire to be in your company, Yuuki."

"Likewise. Let me go."

His grip did not waver. "Ruka mentioned something to me a few days ago…something about you wishing the war would affect a change in me?" Yuuki's eyes narrowed. "It's changed me, Yuuki. I don't have the patience for scum like you anymore."

"Once a bastard, always a bastard," Yuuki muttered, making a fist. Her fingers remain clenched even as Daiki slammed the rest of her body into a wall. "You pathetic ass. I am not afraid of you."

"I can change that, too," Daiki said in a low voice. His free hand gripped one of her hips; the heel of his palm dug into her bone. With satisfaction he saw her bite back a cry of pain.

"You can't change _shit_," Yuuki spat, unfurling her fingers so she could set her nails against Daiki's arm and scratch short, pink lines on his wrist. She wriggled her other arm free from behind her back and slapped him across the face; he didn't flinch, but she smiled as his face grew red where she had struck him. Smile becoming a full grin, she spat, only just barely missing his eye.

In response he slammed her again into the wall, holding her trapped hand by her head, and pushed his free hand into her thigh, fingers digging in as if trying to puncture her flesh.

"Not even this," Yuuki muttered, winding Daiki's hair around her fingers and pulling it so wildly that her elbow hit the wall, sending tingling numbness throughout her entire arm.

* * *

"You're not much like your brother."

Sleep stumbled away from Asato at the sound of Yuuki's low, tremulous voice. Her pale, sweating form stood in his doorway, breathing heavily, glaring at some invisible enemy.

Asato rubbed his eyes with his wrist to eliminate the film of sleepy water. "Yuuki? What are you doing here? Daiki might—"

"Daiki knows."

"Yuuki…" He felt a knife in his throat as his gaze floated downward. The blade plunged downward into his stomach as his eyes finally adjusted and he saw her clearly. The skirt of her kimono was shredded, hanging in tatters off her hips. Half-dried streams of blood ran over the purple-black bruises staining her legs.

"What happened to you?!" He stood, throwing the blanket back and standing up. Her upper lip was swollen and peppered with bite marks; her black hair was violently tousled. Asato gently took her arms and guided her to sit on the floor. He pushed her hair back behind her ears to look in her face.

"Daiki…did he…"

For a moment Yuuki saw Asato's eyes glint blood red. His hands on her arms seemed to be convulsing with moribund self-restraint. She smiled, her eyes meeting his with a crazed look.

"I beat him. He looks like me…a big bloody pulp." She barked out an insane laugh. "I tore his hair out. I scratched up his face. Before I left I got a knife…I almost cut his cock off, Asato. I sliced up his leg. That blood was so delicious; oh, it's so beautiful…"

The blood in Asato's veins iced over. His hands were suddenly still as death.

"I hate him. I hate him and he hates me. I wanted to bash his skull in. I think I still can if I go back."

"Yuuki!" Asato stopped her as she rose, pulling her back to the floor.

"Why don't you come with me, Asato? We can do it together. It'll be the most amazing…"

"Yuuki, please, stop it! You're hysterical!" Asato said, feeling that he might reach insanity as well as tears stabbed the back of his eyes, trying to rip through.

"We can get him back, for all these years…" Her eyes narrowed, and there was poison in her glance. "You worthless coward…will you please just for _once_ act like demon-spawn and kill the bastard?"

For a small eternity it seemed as if a dam was built in Asato's throat, keeping air from his lungs. His hands fell, and after several silent moments he tried to swallow down the wall, willing it to dissolve in the bile he felt in his stomach, and stood.

"Let me take you to a doctor, Yuuki."

"W-wait." He looked down, returning his gaze to her. The venomous hatred in her eyes had disappeared, replaced by a horrified, frightened look. "Asato, I'm not…I'm not like him. He's…I don't like hurting people, Asato. He's…he's infecting me. Wait, wait…Asato, _wait_!"

"I'm right here; I'm not leaving." His knees hit the floor and he grabbed her hands, hiding them in his.

"I'm not like Daiki," she said, insisting, eyes unblinking. "Tell me I'm not turning into him, Asato."

"You're not. I promise you're not."

"Damn it, why? Why did I do that to him? Asato!"

"Yuuki, shh, please." Asato moved his hands up; the heels of his palms rested against her temples and his fingers slipped into her hair. He brought his face close to hers, trying to look into her dry, unfocused eyes. "Please, Yuuki, just let me take you to a doctor; we don't have to say what happened—"

"_Get him out of me!_"

Her hands gripped his hair like a vice as she threw herself forward, almost knocking him back to the floor. Their lips slammed painfully together as her pelvis ground against his.

"Yuuki—!" Asato was cut off as she viciously kissed him again. "Yuuki, stop it, you're not thinking…"

"I don't want to _think_, Asato; I want him gone!" she ground out, her teeth scraping against his lower lip.

"Yuuki, please…" But his body was already fighting to give in to her. Hands and mouths had never been satisfying enough. "What if…what if…"

"Just, just do this for me, Asato." She was pulling him, trying to drag him to the floor, and his resistance was half-hearted. "If you cared about me even _once_ sometime during our miserable existence, you'd get him the hell out of me."

The proverbial camel's spine snapped in half. Yuuki moved to kiss him again but was interrupted by his mouth smashing against hers, unceremoniously dropping them both fully to the floor. Her side connected solidly with the hardwood, but she ignored the newest pain in her bones and rolled onto her back, pulling Asato on top of her. The nails used to rip into Daiki's face and back now set to work tearing off his and what was left of her clothes, marking up both their skins in the process.

* * *

Yuuki lay still, deliberately oblivious to Asato whispering her name again and again. After several moments Asato finally retreated to sit against the wall near the door and run his hand over the scratch and bite marks she had left in various places on his body, as if doing so would make them disappear.

Yuuki sat up now that she was finally able to see all of Asato at once. Her eyes took in the wounds, for the most part inconsequential but for one on his chest: five vibrant dark pink streaks that wouldn't fade for days.

For a moment Daiki was superimposed over Asato and she grinned. Then the illusion faded and the pain returned, in her back, in her pelvis, in her heart.

With difficulty, she managed to stand, picking up the shreds of her garments that were still some semblance of intact as she did so. Asato reached forward but she swayed, avoiding his hands.

"I think," she said slowly, "that I should go see a doctor. I'll tell him I was attacked on the street."

"Okay," Asato said, breathing shakily. "We should have done that to begin with. Let me get dressed; I'll help you—"

"No." She strode past him, wearing more firmness soaked in sad resoluteness than clothing.

"Yuuki!"

His hand caught her wrist as she stepped into the doorway. She looked down at him, her eyes filled with mournful disappointment.

"You can't help me, Asato."

She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and strode soundlessly out the door, and Asato couldn't bring himself to move, not even to watch her leave. The past three years walked through a doorway down the hall, and as the door slid shut and clicked into place, he knew that she was gone, and it was over.


	8. Mamzerim

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei. The Tsuzuki family, with the exception of Asato and Ruka, the Seika family, and the household servants are all my creation.

**Notes**: "Mamzerim" (pronounced mahm-ZEH-reem) is the Jewish concept of "forbidden children": children born from adultery or incest.

In case anyone forgot, since it's been awhile, Shinji is Yuuki's older brother; he is two years older than Yuuki and Ruka, and three years than Asato. Actually, here. These are the Tsuzuki and Seika family trees (birth dates included; death dates and certain characters are excluded so as to not be spoilers):

Takashi (1879)

--m. Aimi (1880)

----c. Daiki (1896)

----c. Ruka (1899)

----c. Asato (1900)

----c. Hideyoshi and Hiroto (1903)

----c. Kotone (miscarried 1908)

Ken'ichi (1882)

--m. Natsumi (1880)

----c. Shinji (1897)

----c. Yuuki (1899)

Emiko was also born in 1880, and Tomoko was born in 1885. (Remember them? They're the maids. They went with the family from Ageo to Tokyo, because they rock.)

* * *

"Their mother has been unfaithful, and conceived them in disgrace" – Hosea 2:5

* * *

Mamzerim

* * *

-_May, 1917_

"What are you doing?"

"Shh!" Ruka hissed, whipping her head around to glare at her brother.

"Sorry," Asato said, crouching beside his sister. Ruka had been staked outside of her father's office for around an hour, and curiosity finally won out.

"Ken'ichi-san and Natsumi-san are in there," Ruka whispered as Asato situated himself more comfortable on the floor. Despite the emptiness of the past two months since Yuuki walked out of his room and out of his life, Asato had to smile at the delight and excitement coloring Ruka's face. "Shinji's worried that he's going to be conscripted, so he told them he doesn't want to wait."

"How's it going?" Asato squeezed her arm, catching some of Ruka's giddy anticipation.

"I don't know; they're all so quiet I can't hear a damn thing."

From the corner of his eye, through the translucent sliding screen door, he saw the shadow of the people bowing. Hastily he stumbled to his feet and helped Ruka up; they had just barely straightened themselves out when the three parents stepped into the hall.

"You're both old enough to know better than to listen at doors," Takashi said, eyeing them sternly.

Asato had the grace to look embarrassed; Ruka did not. "Well?" she asked, her hands shaking at her side.

Takashi glanced at Natsumi and Ken'ichi. A moment of unreadable silence was replaced by three smiles. Natsumi stepped forward and took one of Ruka's hands in both her own.

"Welcome to our family, Ruka."

A shriek of pure joy erupted from Ruka's throat. Natsumi let go of her future daughter-in-law just in time, as Ruka immediately turned and threw herself into Asato's arms. Immersed in his sister and best friend's happiness Asato spun around in a haphazard circle, laughing with her.

"A little dignity wouldn't be amiss," Takashi grumbled, but half-heartedly; the corner of his lip turned up as Asato set Ruka on her feet and hugged her again, though this time stationary.

"Daddy, thank you!" Ruka turned, offering a slightly more subdued but nevertheless ecstatic embrace to her father. "I can't even begin to thank you enough."

"Thank Shinji's parents; they made a good case for the marriage," Takashi muttered; Natsumi and Ken'ichi exchanged knowing glances. Giving Yuuki up to another family had been difficult.

"You're not an easy negotiator," Ruka said, still giggling but now calm. She squeezed her father, and for a moment rested her head against his shoulder, allowing him to pat the cascade of black hair trailing down her back. "I love you, Daddy," she added under her breath.

A sense of having no privacy prevented Takashi from responding in kind. Ruka remembered his characteristic reservation and graciously stepped back, before turning her smiling face on Natsumi and Ken'ichi. "And thank you both, for agreeing not to wait."

"If the war calls him, we want him to have some happiness to take along," Ken'ichi said, smiling sadly at the prospect of losing another child to a foreign body. "Speaking of the groom-to-be, I should go collect him from the house, yes? He doesn't know we're here; we meant to surprise him."

"We should get both families together and celebrate," Ruka said, energy returning. "Daddy, can you send Tomoko-san to find Hideyoshi and Hiroto? They're off…defacing public property or something, I don't know. I'll ask Emiko-san to start up dinner."

"I wouldn't be averse to the idea," Ken'ichi said, moroseness leaving his expression. "If you would grant us the honor," he tacked on quickly.

"It would be _my_ honor," Takashi said.

Before more formalities could be exchanged Ruka squealed again, loudly, and turned, grabbing up her brother's hands. "I'm gonna go tell Suzaku."

"Who?" Natsumi queried as Ruka took off down the hall.

"Close friend," Asato said quickly, ignoring the annoyed look Takashi was shooting him. Not even the twins had been convinced of Suzaku's existence.

"Perhaps we shall see her tonight," Ken'ichi said, oblivious to the doubt emanating from Takashi. "I'll fetch Shinji. Thank you for having us." Ken'ichi bowed, deeper than was needed. "And for making our son very happy."

Takashi returned the gesture. "We'll see each other soon. If you'll excuse me."

"Natsumi?" Ken'ichi had turned towards the exit as Takashi trailed after his daughter, who could still be heard dimly from elsewhere in the house.

"There's no need for both of us to go back," Natsumi said. "I would like to catch my future daughter-in-law when she comes around, anyway," she added with a laugh. "I'll see you both when you return."

Ken'ichi stole a moment to kiss his wife's hand. "Asato, always a pleasure," he added, nodding to Asato. "Be back soon."

"Take care," Natsumi said, watching Ken'ichi as he made for the door leading to the outside. She turned once he was out of sight and had left her standing in the hallway with Asato. "As he said, it's always a pleasure to see you."

"You, as well." Natsumi and Asato exchanged bows. "It's been awhile."

"Almost two months. I don't think we, as families, have sat down together since the night your brother came home." Asato thought he heard a chord of unease in her voice.

"Has Yuuki been well?" Both families had been surprised when Yuuki elected to live with her parents rather than return to the Tsuzuki household after Daiki had set sail again.

"She's…" Natsumi hesitated, frowning worriedly. "If I may speak plain, no."

"Is it serious?" Asato asked, a bit too anxiously.

Natsumi's gaze swept over him, and then he knew that the past few years hadn't escaped her. "She…seemed to recover from that night, but since then…she hasn't been running a fever, and yet she's been getting ill." Natsumi delicately mimed throwing up with her hands. "And you know how…I'm sure you've noticed that she has a rather fiery personality, but lately she hasn't been like herself. When she isn't angry, she's moping. Shinji is worried, too; he partly asked to rush this marriage so that Yuuki could have a friend with her if he's forced to go away. I'm hoping that getting out of the house and joining in the festivities will do her some good. I have to apologize to your father vicariously; my husband finagled it so dinner would be here, for that purpose."

"It…it isn't a problem," Asato said, his mouth drying out.

"I know that there's no possibility that Yuuki won't come tonight," Natsumi said. "But if she starts to feel unwell…I'll have to ask your father if a room might be set aside, to give her a little privacy."

Her last words had a softly pointed edge to them. Natsumi and Asato made eye contact for a handful of seconds, before she turned to cough, and then smile lightly. "When do you suppose Ruka will make her way back here?"

"Well, she has to let the rest of Japan know, so after she's done walking the country…maybe a few years."

Natsumi had to giggle. "I'm glad to see her so happy. I'm looking forward to this wedding. There hasn't been this much joy in our family since Shinji was _born_."

"She's been praying for this since she was fifteen."

"And planning for it, I presume."

"Of course. She's kept me up at night talking about it."

"I hope she left a little room for me to put a word in," Natsumi said, though modestly. Her voice softened as she continued. "Weddings are a big deal for the mothers, too." She bit her lip at the look on Asato's face. "I'm sorry…I don't mean to disrespect Aimi-san."

"You didn't," Asato said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I…we just…wish she was here for this."

"I do, too…I would love to have another woman to commiserate with about our children growing up. That feeling is…it's the most heartbreaking and wonderful experience a person can have, watching this little baby grow to become a husband or wife, and then a parent. I'm truly sorry that your mother didn't get the chance to go through it. I…only met her a few times, when business was still good and she would come up to Tokyo with your father. But I was struck with how…well, wonderful she seemed. She was always so gracious, warm…and she loved you children; you should have heard her go on and on about you." Natsumi smiled. "She was truly a great lady."

"Thank you," Asato said quietly, struggling to speak at all.

Natsumi tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "I suppose I should go see your father, about that room for Yuuki. Shinji won't wait a second once he hears the news, so they might arrive earlier than expected." She allowed a little laugh in her voice at her son's eagerness. It had been a refreshing change from Daiki and Yuuki's sullen acceptance of their own match when it was proposed to them. "Maybe I'll catch Ruka before she makes it out of town. I will see you later tonight."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

"You're next, you know."

"Huh?" Asato looked up from where he had been brooding at the table. Takashi was looming over him, having extricated himself from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house. "Oh, I'm sorry, I…"

"There's no need for you to stand," Takashi said, staying Asato with a gesture of his hand. As Asato resettled awkwardly back on the floor, Takashi more gracefully sat on another side of the table and cleared his throat. "Now that your sister's engaged, it's time for us to start thinking about your marriage, as well."

"I don't really think I'm that eligible," Asato said, watching his fingers draw imaginary shapes on the tabletop.

"You're seventeen. I was the same age when I married your mother."

"But you had so much more going for you. You were already in charge of the station, and half-in charge of the entire business. And you weren't…well, _me_."

Takashi made a noise of semi-reluctant agreement. In most respects, abandoning Ageo for Tokyo had worked in their favor, but Asato's existence kept it from being a perfect move. Physical attacks had ended, but whispered rumors and snubs weren't a relished alternative. Luckily, Emiko had, on a trip to visit her family, purposely started the rumor that Asato had turned into his "true form" and been chased from the house, which had improved business somewhat in that town. (Emiko spent a month making Asato all his favorite foods to make up for it, even though she had sworn everyone who heard of it to absolute secrecy and as far as she knew, it had never reached his ears.)

"My pull in the industry might make up for that. It's not as if you're penniless."

"I might be sometime in the future. When Daiki takes over the business, he's not going to waste time making sure I'm shut out." Asato had to suppress the rage he felt whenever Daiki's name was uttered. Takashi didn't bother attempting to protest; the bad blood between the brothers had been almost tangible for the past nine years. "Even if he doesn't, I won't be an asset."

This also Takashi did not contest. Tutors had stomped out of the house threatening to change careers because of Asato. Ruka had been his most effective teacher, but only in the finer feminine arts of dancing and gardening, and in the few phrases of English they had practiced together. But her own education had been biased away from financial matters that dealt outside the domestic sphere, and what she _did_ learn seemed to pass right over Asato's head when she tried to transmit it to him. Takashi had been relieved to see that Asato wasn't stupid, possessing a good head for strategy, but unlike his brothers he had no business sense to go along with it. Agility, strength, and stamina Asato had more than enough of; but laying tracks had long ago been taken care of, and the army was not interested in him, any more than he was interested in the army. Joining the clergy was out of the question.

"Then we'll give it until the end of the war for things to change. If you aren't married and settled into something by then…I'm sending you to England."

"_England?_"

"I still have friends there who would take you in."

"Permanently?"

"That depends on how you fare while overseas. If you find an occupation, you can choose to stay. If you don't, you will probably at least have learned something to bring back with you. Either way, if by the time you are eighteen there is nothing here for you, it would be best for you to go elsewhere."

Asato looked at Takashi with the eyes of his six-year-old self. "I agree."

Nine years since her death and this had not changed.

Takashi rose from the floor. "I'd make myself more presentable were I you. Our in-laws are waiting."

* * *

The first thing Asato noticed when official greetings were over and they sat down to dinner was how radiant Ruka looked, her clothes and hair flawlessly done, as she sat beside her fiancé. Natsumi had dolled her up in such a way that would be hard to top for when the actual wedding rolled around.

The second thing he noticed was how ill Yuuki was. He hadn't been her constant companion for three years to not notice when she pinched color into her cheeks and chewed mint leaves to hide the stench of vomit. She had grown smaller in the two months since she had walked out of his bedroom, not just in weight but in presence. Even her eyes seemed to shrink into their sockets.

Halfway through dinner she asked to be excused. Ruka stood as well, offering to accompany her future sister to the room that had been laid aside for her. Ruka returned after a few minutes, nonchalantly saying that Yuuki was fine, just exhausted. She pinched Asato in the back of the neck as she passed him on the way back to her seat, making his heart drop into his stomach. Between childhood and early adolescence they had created and perfected a system of touches and gestures, a method of annoying their brothers, sneaking around their father, and protecting each other when they were outside among others their age. Two fingers at the nape was the equivalent of an emergency siren.

Asato rushed through dinner and mumbled his excuses. He walked into Yuuki's room as she was straightening up; her rioting stomach had sent her to the window. She wiped her mouth, evidently having no more food to vomit out and instead resorting to spitting up thick saliva.

"I told Ruka not to send you in," Yuuki muttered, leaning against the wall for support and glaring.

"You know better than to think she'd listen," Asato said, his focus not on his words or on the door he was sliding shut behind him, but on the disheveled sight before him. "Yuuki, what on earth is happening to you?"

"I'm just sick, Asato."

"Your mother says you haven't been feverish."

"My mother talks too much," Yuuki said, viciously derisive.

"Don't say that," Asato said, more snappishly than he meant to. "Natsumi-san cares about you. I would give _anything_ to have my mother be around to worry about me."

Yuuki sniffed but was nonetheless sufficiently chastised. "She needn't be so concerned."

"But you've been this way for two months."

"It's nothing a trip to the doctor's won't fix."

"Do you think it's because of Daiki?" He tried to cool his boiling blood. "I mean, God knows what's on those boats. He could have picked something up in Italy and passed it along to you."

Yuuki shrugged, a bit too tightly. "It _could_ have come from him."

Her tone of voice suddenly sent daggers of ice into his innards. He had been almost eight years old when he came across Aimi leaning over a bowl, violently dry heaving as Tomoko held her hair back. Emiko had come across him and, seeing his horrified face, bore him away to the kitchen, where after a cup of calming tea she explained what was causing Aimi's ailment.

"Yuuki, are you…are you pregnant?"

She didn't answer for what felt like hours, instead concentrating on a fleck of paint that had come loose from the wall. After flicking it came to no avail, she pinched it between her fingers and tore it off.

"It's nothing a trip to the doctor's won't fix."

"_No_." Out of everything his mother had taught him, this one lesson had remained crystal clear in his mind, if only because of the intense, inexplicable shame on Aimi's face as she explained what she called unforgivable. "Absolutely not."

"You don't get a say in this, Asato," Yuuki said quietly, flatly, emotion banished.

"The hell I don't have a say about my own _child_."

"It might be your brother's."

That felt like a brick to the face. "Is that supposed to change the fact that what you're planning is _wrong_?"

"I don't agree with that," Yuuki said, her eyes narrowing. "And no matter who the father is, I can't raise his child."

"It's _your_ child, too. You are talking about killing _your_ son or daughter."

"Better that than the alternatives," Yuuki said, instinctively putting her hand to her waist despite herself. "You think Daiki would make a good father?"

"He—"

"Or that I particularly want to raise his spawn?" she interrupted.

"You can't think of a child as a copy of its father."

"Or let's say it's yours," Yuuki said, purposely ignoring his argument. "I'm sure he's just _dying_ to raise something that belongs to his two favorite people in the world."

"He wouldn't know."

"He will if this child has your eyes."

He froze for a second, and then swallowed. "Then…then we won't stay."

"It's not as if the rest of Japan approves of—"

"Not Japan. My father is planning on sending me to England if I can't settle down. He said he'd wait until the end of the war but I don't think he'd object to me leaving earlier."

"He won't be thrilled that his other son's wife takes off with you."

"He won't have to know until we're already gone. It's not as if Daiki's coming home before…" He ran through the months in his head. "December. You could buy a ticket without our families being any the wiser."

"You realize you're proposing cutting ourselves off from our relatives and running away to a foreign country, right, Asato?"

"I would do it in a heartbeat, Yuuki. I can't leave you and a child with Daiki, no matter which one of us the father is."

"And how are we supposed to support ourselves? Between us we maybe know twenty phrases in English. Even if we stay with people your father knows, once they find out what we did I'm sure they'll put us out on the streets. Asato," she said before he could speak, "I don't want to leave. And I don't want this child."

"Then…then…" His mind was racing, flashing through ideas and memories and blurring them together. "Okay, even if all three of us can't stay together, there _are_ people in Japan like my mother. Emiko-san's family wouldn't care if the child had _no_ eyes, and…and I know that she has a sister who can't have children." His eyes began to light up. "When the child's born you could pass it off as stillborn or kidnapped and let Emiko-san give it to her sister."

"I don't see how that could work."

"If you're away from Tokyo when the time comes…" He saw the doubtful expression she flaunted. "Yuuki, _please_, we can figure something more concrete out as it gets closer. There's so much ti—"

"I don't want to put myself through that."

"Damn it Yuuki, this isn't about _you!_" His hands shot forward and grabbed her wrists, yanking her towards him but stopping before they made substantial contact, as if their forces of will were both the north side of a magnet. "This is about your _child_ that you're willing to just throw away without second thought!"

"Exactly." Yuuki snapped her arms down, freeing her wrists from his grasp. "And I'm showing more mercy on it than you are."

"How—"

"Do you want someone else to grow up like you did?"

All arguments shriveled up and flew away like moribund leaves in the wind. Time suddenly shot backwards, memories flooding him as clear and real as when they were formed. The first sensation of sickness when "Asato-oni" was introduced as an appellation. Becoming intimately acquainted with the stones that made up the well as day after day water was drawn from it to wash away blood and soothe wounds.

"_Because he is not my son!"_

"Even if it isn't yours, or doesn't have your eyes, its father would be Daiki. And he'd treat it worse than Takashi ever treated you."

The maelstrom of rocks, the lashings with sticks. The tears running down Aimi's sunken and pallid face, the yellow-green sputum at the corners of her mouth.

The men taking Mommy away.

"_God damn you back to Hell!"_

"Asato…don't you ever wish that you'd never been born?" Yuuki asked, her voice less cutting into the barrage of images than permeating every second of memory that flashed panoramically through his mind.

Asato looked at Yuuki, into the face of the woman he'd loved for three years, the person he could barely recognize but now saw more clearly than ever. All of a sudden he imagined her gravesite, and his anger and frustration couldn't fight the sheer grief his imagination conjured, as powerful as if it were a part of the present.

He didn't know the answer to her question.

But he did know now that he wasn't going to stop her.

She knew it too, and turned her back to him to pull down the still-open window. She checked her reflection, trying to fix her limp, unkempt hair and slap some color into her face. Reluctantly satisfied with her altered appearance she turned to him, and the soft part of her heart, underneath the layers of rock that she'd been building ever since she'd been married and most eagerly in the past two months, felt some small fraction of the pain she'd immersed him in.

Regret and hesitance crossed her mind. But then she thought of Daiki, and she convinced herself that what she felt was resignation and resolve instead.

"Try to…try to see it this way, Asato," she said as she passed, scooting around him as if touch would weaken her determination. She slid open the door, hanging back for only a second. "We're at least saving an innocent from people who won't love it."

_I do,_ Asato thought, as Yuuki stepped out of the room. _Yuuki, please,_ _I love that child, I…_ But he was frozen, unable to move or speak, unable to do anything but sink to his knees and pray that somehow the doomed child could hear his thoughts.

_I'm so sorry. _

Yuuki disappeared down the hallway, leaving him behind again and yet somehow taking him along for the ride, next to the other tiny life also about to abandoned in a bloody mess on a cold floor.

He stayed there for what seemed like a hundred forevers, dimly hearing the little voice crying out to be saved ringing in his ears, until delicate footfall somewhat drowned it out.

Ruka stood before him, paler than Yuuki had been, but with make-up instead of pallor. Her hair was still styled up, but her clothes had changed, and instead of the kimono she felt safe to wear to dinner with three rambunctious brothers, she had changed into something Asato had only seen a few times, in the black-and-white photographs Aimi kept in her bedroom. Now freed from the box that had protected it for twenty-one years, Ruka wore the bright white kimono like a queen, or an angel, or whatever Aimi had been.

"Daddy found this in the storage room," Ruka said quietly, turning slightly to show off the delicate patterns stitched in to. "He said that the women in Mom's family passed it down, and that I should give it to my own daughter, if I have one…"

She looked at him, her eyes betraying how much she had been able to ascertain before her hands wiped the evidence away.

"I wish Mom was here."

Ruka had the incantation ready before uttering the one thing she had wanted more than her marriage. Suzaku was summoned before the first tears had slid off Asato's face to land on the floor, appearing as Ruka knelt beside him and threw her arms around his neck, drawing his face into her shoulder.

Suzaku decided that an explanation could come later. She had met them with tears in their eyes and since then her job had been to soothe them, to try to fill in for the mother they no longer had. She sat behind them, placing her hands lightly on the backs of their necks and resting her chin atop Asato's head. Connected through touch, and now through mind, all three thought the same.

_I love you, and I want you to live._


	9. Love and Blood

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yami no Matsuei

**Notes:** On June 11th, 1917, the battleship Sakaki was torpedoed in the Aegean Sea, off the coast of Malta, during a heavy fog. The hit took out the bow, gunroom, and engine room, and smashed the bridge. Fifty-nine men died. Strangely enough, the ship did not sink.

As mentioned earlier, abortion was officially illegal in Japan at this time; it was only legalized after World War II. Socially, however, Japan has a long history of abortion and infanticide. Traditionally abortion was carried out by inserting a rod—for example, long chopsticks or a barley stalk—soaked in some sort of mixture (usually involving mercury) into the uterus to pierce the fetal body. The risk of piercing the uterus and introducing infectious bacteria is, I feel, obvious.

I adjusted Shinji to be older than Yuuki and Ruka because the draft was implemented for those 20 years old and up. Daiki joined the military of his own volition at age 18.

The Bolshevik Revolution took place in November of 1917 according to the Gregorian calendar (October in the Julian). France asked Japan to interfere in Russia in 1917, which they refused to do initially. However, in July of 1918 at the request of Woodrow Wilson, Japan sent 70,000 troops to Russia, and the Imperial Japanese Army remained there until 1922.

There was a dispensary, designed purely for tuberculosis patients, built in 1915 in Osaka.

A kamidana is a shelf wherein a family upkeeps a Shinto shrine. San-san-kudo is a ritual of sharing sake, first between bride and groom, and then between their families. I found practically nothing on the actual _text _of a Shinto wedding, which is the only reason why the second ceremony is not detailed.

* * *

"The adulteress's house is a highway to the grave, leading down to the chambers of death." – Proverbs 7:27

* * *

Love and Blood

* * *

_-June 11__th__, 1917_

Daiki's imagination had been filled with images of Hell pretty much since the day he had learned of it. Aimi had preferred to skim over the harsher aspects of their religion, choosing instead to focus on the concepts of love, forgiveness, and grace; it had been one of Takashi's offhand comments after Aimi's death and his insatiable childlike curiosity that sent Daiki to his father's library to root through the pages and pages of writings by Catholic movers and shakers. The one labeled _Inferno_ had kept his interest the longest; the descriptions of the different layers of hell fascinated him and then became ingrained in his mind, as if they were Gospel truth as much as the death and resurrection.

It was funny, but he couldn't recall one of the levels of Hell being so cold and so dark blue as the place he was in now; the sun blocked from penetrating the water by the thick fog that had enveloped the sky and by the blackness of the Sakaki as it valiantly kept the gaping hole caused by the torpedo above water.

It was also funny how he thought of Yuuki, as he watched mangled appendages and shreds of metal that had been torn from the ship floating by him, somehow sinking faster than he was. The ripped-up arms and legs and chunks of ship reminded him of the swath of cloth he had torn off Yuuki's kimono the night before he left, before dragging her to the floor by her hair. For a moment it was like she was there as well, and having her share this unknown hell with him, the one of sinking into unfathomable depths for the rest of eternity, somehow made the sea's temperature a literal cold comfort.

He didn't quite mind the seawater filling up his mouth as he vocally wished Yuuki a similar fate. At least it was somewhat replacing the blood escaping from his head and drifting away with the tide.

* * *

_-June 20__th__, 1917_

Three women had been there that day a few weeks ago, huddled together in a small line of nerves, waiting to be called in or found out. The woman to her right also claimed uncertain paternity as the reason why she needed to send the child back. The woman to her left said, in mournful voice punctuated by wracking coughs, that she was too sick to continue a pregnancy.

Yuuki was the last one called in. She remembered the room was cramped, and dark. He explained that this was so attention from the outside would not be drawn to the room; a darkened window was not interesting to passers-by.

He warned her, before chloroforming her, that she'd be in pain when she woke up, and that she might bleed; the other two who were now sleeping off the procedure had both bled like stuck pigs.

Two voices, one hers and one Asato's, resounded in her head, faintly begging her to get up and leave. But before she could truly acknowledge either, a cloth was pressed to her face and she automatically inhaled. When she woke up she found dried blood caked onto her inner thighs, as had been expected. He said that she'd been the worst of them all, even the sick woman.

The day had been on her mind more than she would have liked, the same way that Asato had not left her alone during the two months that she had doggedly avoided him. It was on her mind when Takashi and her parents called her into the main room of her childhood house.

She had to read the letter several times, distracted by her parents' preemptive whispered condolences and Takashi's conspicuous silence. Had it come a year earlier she would have acted the part of the bereaved wife before hiding in her room to thank whatever higher powers had been involved with freeing her from Daiki's grasp. Instead now the words seemed to reach into her lungs and squeeze out the blood she was suddenly coughing onto the paper.

* * *

-_November, 1917_

"You didn't have to come with us, Ruka."

"Of course I had to." Ruka shifted her weight, her hand resting on Shinji's arm. Ken'ichi and Natsumi stood further before them, closer to the train tracks, in a similar pose. "She's my family, too. Well, _tomorrow_ she will be, officially."

They had been planning on a July wedding, but Daiki's death and Yuuki's illness had thrown everything off-course. A strange sense had settled over the two houses, as if hands were wrapped around each resident's throat, fingers tensing and flexing, continually threatening to tighten their grasp. Ruka had assigned herself to suicide watch for both her father and Asato; the numb silence they had imprisoned themselves in kept her up at night, sick with nerves. Several times over the past few months she'd asked the twins to take turns keeping watch at their father's door while she holed herself up in Asato's room.

Ruka had been willing to postpone the wedding indefinitely, until both her family and Shinji's felt the sense of suffocation lifting. But, during one of their long quiet moments outside together, Shinji told her that he'd gotten the notice of conscription and would be leaving as 1918 was ushered in. Rumors were swirling about whether he'd end up fighting the Germans or the Russians. Now more than ever, he told her, he wanted the certainty of a wife waiting for him if he returned home, and if not, at least a memory of a wedding to take with him.

Natsumi wrote to Yuuki in Osaka of the news of the new wedding date. Yuuki wrote back, with penmanship that betrayed a weakening hand, that she would never forgive them if she missed it. Against her doctors' wishes she had dragged herself out of Toneyama Dispensary and onto a train, reserving a private car to keep public air free of tuberculosis.

Ken'ichi and Natsumi had initially decided that only they would be picking their daughter up from the station, reasoning that they'd already fulfilled their duty to have children and it wouldn't be as great a loss if they shared her disease. Shinji categorically refused to not partake his sister's homecoming, saying that it was bad enough that the rest of the country was avoiding her. And Ruka had simply shown up that morning and went in silence with them to the station.

The blow of the horn just barely heralded the coming train, which barreled past them at what felt like lightning speed. Its rapidity made up for the long wait there was for Yuuki to appear; healthy passengers and luggage were given exiting priority. When she finally did appear, wheeled out by the doctor that had accompanied her, her family and she stared at each other, both wondering how she could have gotten so small in the five months since she had immediately been packed off to Toneyama.

* * *

"So what do you think?" Ruka asked, raising and lowering the translucent fabric over her face. "Veil, no veil?"

"Why didn't you decide this earlier, Ruka-nee?" Asato eyed his sister with exasperation. The push and pull between Catholic and Shinto, and England and Japan, had been a constant theme during Daiki and Yuuki's wedding, covering most of the ground for Shinji and Ruka's own, but certain things had been left to personal preference.

"When did I have time to?" Ruka shot back, defensively. "You try planning a wedding in a few weeks."

"I feel like I _have_," he returned, maintaining a good-natured tone. Ruka had jumped at the chance to change her silent vigils over her brother into meetings, and despite himself, Ruka's vigor was both infectious and distracting; over the past few weeks he had found himself actually smiling a few times. "Go without it. It doesn't suit you."

Ruka took one last glance at herself in the mirror before agreeing with her brother and setting the veil aside. "And…I actually think that's it."

"Thank God, I thought it would never end…"

Ruka made a face at her brother, before her expression melted into a laugh. "Me too. I think I will actually sleep tonight, Asato-otouto."

"Considering the wedding's _tomorrow_, I hope you do."

"Great, you had to remind me of that, didn't you?" Ruka grinned.

"You _forgot_?" Asato tossed back, in mock horror. "Maybe you shouldn't be getting married if you can't even remember when the wedding is supposed to be."

"We are _beyond_ ready to get married," Ruka said, flopping to the floor. "If I actually _had_ to wait all that time I said I would, I think I would have strangled something. Waiting for him to come home is going to drive me crazy as it is."

The subtle change in her tone, accompanied by the slight pink tint that began to color her face, cued Asato to scramble across the floor and take his seat beside her, in time for her leaning frame to land solidly against his. She hadn't much discussed the fact that a month after the wedding Shinji would be gone, though every once in awhile he noticed her stop whatever task she was doing to stare off into space, mind occupied by thought. It hadn't helped that there wasn't much to distract her. Takashi moved through the house like a ghost, staying shut up in his office for hours-long stretches. The twins' antics were centered mainly around harmless practical jokes played on their older sister, whose end results were usually amusing but whose preparation required a lot of secrecy and therefore isolation from her. Asato himself was in desperate need of distracting, hence his inclusion in the wedding plans.

"How much longer do you think this war can go on?" Ruka asked quietly.

"I don't know, Ruka-nee. It's been three years; I think all sides are getting sick of it."

"One thing I've noticed is that men never tire of violence."

"Says the girl who can and _will_ beat the crap out of me…"

Ruka straightened up a moment to punch his arm, and then managed to giggle at the irony of the situation. The laughter was short-lived, however, and she slumped again; Asato slipped his arm around her and clasped her to his side.

"I don't know how many more funerals I can go to."

"Try not to think that way, 'Neesan. There's no guarantee he won't come back alive."

"I thought that way about Daiki, and he didn't come back at all."

Mentions of their older brother usually silenced Asato immediately, and this time was no different. In some of his crueler moods, he hoped that a shark had made a good meal out of Daiki. These thoughts horrified him once the bad humor passed, and despite the hatred he and his brother had for each other he would wish that Daiki had come home, or at least a body had been recovered, for the family's sake.

"I'm just…I'm really scared, Otouto," Ruka said, her voice low and strained, struggling as it was against the lump in her throat. "I keep thinking that in a few months I'm going to get a letter saying that I should be proud that he fought so valiantly…"

Asato shifted the pressure in his arm to pull her against his chest; the moment he did so he felt warm droplets of water begin to soak through the front of his kimono. It wasn't often that Ruka turned to him for comfort; more often than not when she cried it was more out of compassion for him than out of her own sense of despair.

"And I know that-that Mom, she would say that if God called him, it would be for the best," Ruka stammered, turning her head so she could talk freely, "but she's not here to tell me that herself, and…and I don't want to be Daddy, Otouto."

Asato choked back the apology that had been waiting inside him for over nine years. If he tried again to verbally blame himself for Aimi's death, rage would accompany Ruka's sick anxiety, and that was the last thing she needed right now. He rested a hand on the back of her head and let it run down her cascade of black hair.

"I'm sorry," Ruka said, straightening up and trying to wipe away the tears on her cheeks; more stubbornly replaced them. "I'm being stupid, and you don't need this right now…"

"You're allowed to worry about your fiancé, 'Neesan," Asato said, trying to ignore the memory of Ruka walking in from escorting Yuuki back home unable to look at him.

"Some wedding this is going to be, huh?" Ruka continued, almost laughing. ""Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your life?" "Yes, for all two months that are left of it!"." She released a mock wail, too close to the real thing for Asato's liking. "And then I faint at the altar."

"I'll catch you before you knock over anything important," Asato said. It had been decided that Asato would be Shinji and Ruka's only attendant. Shinji's friends had not undergone the process of conversion and thus were ineligible to stand for them; Ruka had no one outside the family she could count as more than an acquaintance, and as dearly as she loved the twins she did not trust them to behave themselves any further than she could throw them.

"I can always count on you, can't I?" Ruka said, running her finger around the rim of her lower eyelid. "Sheesh, look at me, blubbering like this. When did I become such a girl?"

"You're not a girl?"

Ruka punched Asato's arm again, but the strike was light, and she was giggling once more. A few swipes of her hand took away the tear tracks on her face. The giggle turned into a full-blown laugh when Asato's fingers wiggled in front of her face and then flicked her nose.

"Thank you, Asato. Thank you for that." She leaned towards him again, but this time she rested her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back. He returned the embrace, and they did not relinquish their hold on each other for a long, long time.

* * *

"Shinji and Ruka, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"We have."

"Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?"

"We will."

"Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and His Church."

Ruka's hand met Shinji's halfway; they allowed themselves a moment of playing with each other's fingers before settling on their grip.

"I, Shinji, take you, Ruka, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness," the thought of his sister briefly passed through Shinji's mind, "and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"I, Ruka, take you, Shinji, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad," her breath caught in her throat for a moment, "in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"You have declared your consent before God and the Church," the priest announced. "May the Lord in His goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with His blessings. What God has joined, man must not divide." The priest paused for a moment, allowing the small congregation soak in the benediction. "Who holds the rings?"

"I do," Asato said, nearly missing the question, so absorbed was he in the radiance he could see emanating from his sister's face. The priest held out his hand for the rings, which Asato handed over. As he settled back into his place, Asato caught a glimpse of Yuuki, sitting towards the back of the church, her face covered by the veil Ruka had rejected to try to protect the air.

"May the Lord bless these rings which you give to each other as a sign of your love and fidelity," the priest said, before placing the rings in the bridal pair's palms.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Shinji said, gently placing the ring on Ruka's finger and sliding it into place.

"With this ring, I thee wed," Ruka said, more forcefully doing the same. Once the ring was in position she pushed herself up on her tiptoes, catching her now-husband in a passionate kiss that, after nearly instantly getting over the initial shock, Shinji was more than happy to respond to.

After a few seconds a murmur of impatience ran through the congregation, and the priest cleared his throat. Asato himself was torn between enjoying his sister's happiness and wanting to pulverize Shinji for daring to kiss Ruka in such a manner.

Ruka finally planted herself on her feet, stepping back out of a sense of propriety but not shame. All eyes turned expectantly to Asato, and he ran his tongue over the inside of his cheeks to wet his mouth.

"God the Father willed that husband and wife should become one flesh in marriage. Let us pray to Him in sincerity of heart on this joyous occasion. We pray for Ruka and Shinji, that their love for each other may be patterned on Christ's love for His bride, the Church. We pray to the Lord."

"Lord, hear our prayer," the rest of the congregants replied.

"We pray that Ruka and Shinji will enjoy the gift of children." The mention of children twisted the knife that seemed ever-present in his gut. "We pray to the Lord."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"We pray that the parents of Ruka and Shinji will continue to support them on the journey which begins at this altar." Asato could nearly feel the wince Takashi, standing in the front row next to where Aimi would have been, would not allow himself to do. "We pray to the Lord."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"Father of life and love, in union with…Mary our Mother, who was a wedding guest at Cana, we make our requests in prayer through Christ our Lord."

"Amen."

Ruka turned her head quickly to flash him a grateful and proud smile. The smile sustained him throughout the Nuptial Blessing, the Lord's Prayer, and the dismissal, even as his gaze wandered back towards the lonely figure in the farthest pew, even as in the confusion of the recessional he lost track of both the women he loved.

* * *

Out of fairness to Shinji, who had reluctantly converted only to allow Ruka the church wedding she had always wanted, a second, Shinto wedding had been agreed upon by the families. In order to spare the much more pious Tsuzuki family any discomfort, and to avoid having to pay another fee for use of a facility, Ken'ichi and Natsumi had opted to dress up their kamidana for a short and unofficial ceremony, rather than head to a shrine. The decision actually made things easier: Ruka had a chance to change from the white kimono, in her view so saturated with Aimi's faith that it was inappropriate to wear to a Shinto function, into a red one; the heirloom and decidedly fragile cups wouldn't have to risk the perils of travel for the sake of san-san-kudo; the antsy twins could set up the yard for the admittedly small reception which was to follow; and Yuuki could lie down, as the excursion to the church had exhausted her limited supply of energy.

The room the Seika kept their kamidana in, like all the rooms in the house they'd been forced to move into after investments went sour, was intended for only four people to be in at once. Part of the reason Ruka had insisted on Asato standing for her at the church was because there was simply no room for him at the second ceremony, after the newlyweds and their parents had squished themselves, along with the necessary accoutrements, into the room.

Asato helped Ruka adjust her new outfit, a hand-me-down from Natsumi's family that did not fit quite as perfectly as the one from Aimi's, before sharing a tight embrace and a quick good-bye as Ruka rushed inside the room for the second ceremony. The door was shut behind her, and Asato was left alone.

It didn't surprise either of them when Asato found his way to Yuuki's room. He'd never been in her family's house long enough to memorize the layout, but the sound of her wracking coughs left a trail to her bedroom that Asato couldn't resist taking.

"Do you need anything?" Asato asked, after a moment of staring at the wasting body in front of him. "Water, or…?"

"I'm fine."

"You should be lying down."

Yuuki was sitting on the floor, her futon packed away into her closet and her face turned away from him. "I'm sick of lying down. I-"

She was cut off by another cough, and the hand pressed to her mouth could not hide the bloody sputum she choked up.

"You shouldn't get too close," she said quietly, as she felt his weight settle beside hers. "It's…it's really contagious."

"I don't care." His arms settled carefully around Yuuki.

"I care," she countered, still not looking at him. "You shouldn't have to suffer, too…you told me not to do it."

"It's still my fault," Asato said, gently pulling Yuuki closer to him. "If I hadn't…you wouldn't have gotten pregnant, or you would've known who-"

"I spend all my time at Toneyama lying down and thinking about the abortion," Yuuki interrupted. "Just once…just _today_, when something good is happening to my family, I would like to sit like a normal person and not talk or think about it."

"Okay."

"You were great, earlier," Yuuki said, after a very long moment of silence. "During the…what are they called?"

"Prayers of the Faithful. And, thank you. I was really nervous."

"I couldn't tell."

"That's good. I didn't want anything to go wrong, for Ruka's sake. She's worried about everything these days."

"It must be hard for her, with Shinji leaving next month."

"It can't be easy on you, either."

"I'm not so worried that I'll have to mourn for him."

"Yuuki?"

She didn't reply immediately. After a moment she began coughing again, her back giving itself over to spasms as she did so. Asato put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around; not recoiling from the splotchy visage sporting tear-lined eyes and fresh blooding running from her mouth. His hands moved up, pulling away strands of hair that stuck to her sweat-soaked face, fingers gently moving against her skin before burying themselves in her thin curtain of hair.

Yuuki was unresponsive to the kiss that came next, neither resistant or enthused, and only tensed when he lowered his head slightly, pressing his lips and then his tongue to the trails of blood on her chin.

"Asato, what…?"

"It's all I can do for you," Asato said, his voice trying not to break, and failing miserably. "I can't fix anything else."

"Don't…Asato, you're just going to get sick, too…"

"I know."

Yuuki pressed her hand against his chest and tried to push him away, but the disease had robbed her of the little strength she'd had, and she succeeded in propelling herself away form him, instead. She wiped at her chin, leaving her hand at her face as she coughed again. More blood fell into her palm; before she could stop him, or he could stop himself, he licked away the stain it left on her lip.

"I know you don't want to," he said quietly, his forehead resting against hers, "but you should lay down. Save up some energy for the reception. They'll be done soon."

"I'm probably going to sit it out, Asato," Yuuki said, resignedly and matter-of-factly. "All I wanted to see was the wedding."

"No, there…there has to be more. There has to be more that you want to see."

"Asato…"

She found herself pulled down again, but this time to the floor instead of topsoil, and she thought that sometimes the end is rather like the beginning. The remembrance of their first rendezvous in the garden, surrounded by the Patrinia that Asato had planted, imposed itself over her mind's eye, and the vision was so lovely that she immediately became enraptured by it…by the quiet peace of an otherwise empty garden, by the feeling of freedom Daiki's imminent departure gave to her, by the yellow and purple that dominated memory's landscape.

The day passed through Asato's mind as well, but instead of flowers or freedom all he could recall was the Yuuki's questions and the inadvertent reminder of Aimi's death. Now, he realized with a sick heart, he saw his mother's face, robbed of warmth and life by the loss of a child and the ravages of disease, in Yuuki's. The struggle to smile despite strength's abandonment was the same.

"Hail Mary, full of grace; the Lord is with thee," Asato said, his voice barely able to climb higher than a whisper as he pulled Yuuki flush against him. "Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and…at the hour of our death."

Yuuki's shook with another fit of coughs; Asato tilted her head up and covered her mouth with his. Her eyes were closed and her expression was peaceful, as if she were ignorant of her convulsions.

"Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death," Asato repeated, running his tongue over her chin and cheeks, unwittingly smearing the blood he was trying to mop up. "Pray for us sinners…" The saltwater falling from his face tempered the iron taste on his tongue. "Pray for us…"

Yuuki exhaled a deep, even surrender of whatever untainted breath was left in her lungs.

"At the hour of our death...Mother, pray for us."


End file.
